Being of Sound Mind and Body
by UnromanticPoetess
Summary: Nappa's last will and testament. Different approach to Nappa's character. COMPLETED
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: This is my attempt to work through writer's block on "The Soul." (By the way, please read and review that.) I came up with this concept when I was bored out of my mind in sociology. Nappa is just one of those one-dimension characters. The only time I ever see him in a story is (a) as a faithful, if not wholly intelligent, protector of young Vegeta under Frieza's rule and (b) as a dead person in hell out for revenge against Vegeta. Surely there's something more to him. So, I decided to attempt to write him. Now, this is a document that Nappa is writing. It has been found and is being read by someone whose identity will not be disclosed until the end. I'm not sure when the end will come, but be patient, and enjoy.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

I, Nappa, being of sound mind and body…

Well, darn.  I promised myself I wouldn't lie, and now I have already.  I definitely have a sound body—an extremely strong body—but a sound mind?  Not after what I've seen.

First off, let me explain a few things, since you're probably not a Saiyan.  No Saiyan would be reading this.  Prince Vegeta definitely wouldn't.  And he's the only one left…

I can see his space pod now.  He's probably asleep.  He always hated long trips.  Hated the inactivity.  I think induced sleep is the only time His Highness allows himself peace.  He probably thinks I'm asleep, too.  Fact is, I rarely sleep.

Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Explaining things.  First, let me introduce myself.  I am Nappa, Saiyan elite, former general of the Saiyan army.  And yes, I am a Saiyan, one of the four—two—surviving members of the greatest warrior race of all time.

And why am I writing this?  Well, it's an old Saiyan custom, although I'm probably the only one who remembers it.  You see, Saiyans aren't exactly record-keepers or historians.  We're not bookworms.  We're warriors, built for battle.  Any Saiyan who would try to write the exploits of others would either go stir-crazy or malign the warriors he's recording.  But every warrior wants to be remembered.  Otherwise, why fight?  So, before a Saiyan dies, he writes—well—it doesn't translate exactly into Common.  Think of it as a combination memoirs and last will.  It's called a sarka.  Now, most sarkas I've read have been downright boring.  The lower-class Saiyans have no writing skills, or intelligence, so it's nothing more than a list, more often than not short, of accomplishments.  And the elite are often so pompous that half the things they talk about is absolute crap.  Pure exaggeration.  There's no way that any one warrior could accomplish so much.  I've read seven sarkas that claimed credit for recovering the same holy relic single-handedly.  No wonder Saiyans are considered stupid.

Don't get me wrong.  Most Saiyans are stupid.  Take Radditz, for example.  Poor boy.  Doesn't have two brain cells to rub together.  He survived by blindly following my orders.  And the one time he rebelled—well…  You'd think with a father like Bardock… now, there was a Saiyan.  Tall.  Admirable head of hair.  The strongest non-elite warrior, and probably could have defeated a number of elites if not for the class barrier.  And smart.  We had space pods before ever allying with Frieza, and we didn't steal them.  Bardock just—built them.  He always worked closely with the military, and he had even taken my son as an assistant…

My son…

Well, I have to start somewhere, so I guess I'll start at the beginning.  I was born around sixty years ago.  At least, I think.  Time is sort of meaningless in a space pod, where there is no night and no day.  You can leave one planet at six in the morning and land three hours later where it's eleven at night.  My most reliable measure of time used to be Radditz and the prince, but they've grown up enough to where they age little.  Well, I keep getting sidetracked.  I was going into my early life.  It was typical.  I was born to a lower elite family.  I was, of course, given the best military training as soon as I could walk.  That is custom.  Everyone has a place in the military.  Even when my parents died, I was not orphaned.  I simply moved into barracks.  No home or parents to report to.  Just my drill sergeant.  Much more convenient that way.

I imagine the person reading this is some liberal-minded peace-loving Frieza-fodder.  Otherwise you wouldn't be planet-side long enough to find this.  You may think my life a harsh one.  Well, you'd be right.  My life is very harsh.  Why shouldn't it be?  How many pampered children have died in nice vehicles wearing nice clothing driving down well-kept roads?  At least, well-kept before they were ki-blasted.  How many rich people have been incinerated reclining in their own mansions?  How many children are buried under their parents' heavy corpses who died foolishly to slightly prolong the misery of their spoiled brats?  Too many to count, for I've seen enough of them.

But, I digress.  My harsh childhood has served me well.  I worked my way up in ranks, excelling in both fighting and military strategy.  I was the youngest in officer's school, attending at the record age of ten, the very year the last King of Planet Vegeta was crowned.

I was the best.

I'm not saying this in arrogance or vanity.  I won't lie in my sarka.  This is the truth.  I was the first Saiyan to ascend from the lower elite to the upper elite since the class distinction was made.  I was the best in my class.  I made lieutenant by the age of twelve and commanded my own legion, some of the best Saiyans to ever put on uniforms.  Only once did we have to transform to take a planet, and that was because we were at a quarter man-power.  The planet Vache, I believe it was.  

Don't think that I was in there killing a whole bunch of people.  Well, I had to kill some.  But the Saiyan Empire did not use the same sort of tactics that the Kold Empire uses.  We aren't planet-brokers any more than we are bookworms.  We subjected people to our domain.  Kill or enlist the warriors, and you can annex a nice little planet into the empire.  Food, slaves, resources, expendable troops, scientists… anything a growing empire could need, all in a ready-made civilization.

The Kold Empire was further away at the time.  There was no threat.  Actually, we were no threat.  Simply a minor power, with nothing to offer possible invaders.  Or so we thought.  If we even did think.  

Even if the Saiyan Empire was not noticed, I was.  I made my legion famous.  We were set up as models for other warriors, and we were having the time of our lives.  Imagine, if you will, a boy in his early teens commanding warriors up to five times his own age, and being the most famous and celebrated Saiyan of the time.  Do you think anyone would enjoy that kind of life?  Do you really?  You bet your power level they would!  I had achieved success in less than two decades, and I still wasn't at my peak of power or rank.  I was only a lieutenant.  I had en entire life of supremacy in front of me.  When I truly thought things couldn't get better, my legion was adopted as the King's personal honor guard.  We only went on the most important missions, not to mention a substantial increase in pay and prestige.  I jumped in rank straight from lieutenant to general.  Things couldn't get any better!

So they got worse.


	2. So They Got Worse

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm getting more into this story. I've never written anything this original, and I'm enjoying it. Hope you enjoy it too. Fixed the problem kindly pointed out by Taes.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 2: So They Got Worse  
  
  
  
  
**

You know, there's just something about space.  It's so calm—peaceful.  Oh sure, you know people are being violently killed left and right, but it doesn't show up in a space pod.  All you can see is the expanse of black, riddled by stars, planets, meteors, nebulae… all working in perfect harmony with one another.  Unchanging.  And even if a star goes nova, or a planet falls victim to nova, meteor, or ki blast, there is an infinite number of stars and planets to compensate for the loss.  It's reassuring.  One, I don't really have to worry about job security.  There'll always be planets that need purging, and never enough warriors to do them all.  Second . . . the amount of people I've killed amounts to a speck of space dust in relation to how many people that are really out there.  I'm not making that much difference.  I'm not…

Right.  Where was I?  Oh, yeah.  I was in charge of the honor guard.  Now, I'm not exactly talking about a no-brainer job.  I wasn't getting a free ride.  I was second only to the king and the general of the Saiyan Army.  A good portion of the burden of building and maintaining the Saiyan Empire was sitting squarely on my shoulders.  I not only had to protect the king and royal family, but also had to take on the most delicate of missions.  I remember spending a week taking over a planet that had technology to wipe out the entire solar system.  I had to keep them from using their technology without destroying it… plus my legion was at a quarter strength.  I did it, though.

But we didn't know Frieza had plans for the planet as well.

Of course, we'd heard the horror stories of the Kold Empire, and especially Frieza.  Destroyed entire civilizations, assimilated warriors into his own army, killed anyone who rebelled or got in his way.  Big yawn.  What's so special about that?  We did that.  Maybe not so much with the killing, but our empire wasn't as established.  We were so far removed from the true horror of the Kold Empire.  We had no idea.

We were fools.

I was still on that planet—I can't even remember its name—when they showed up.  Warriors of all races—some I'd never even seen before.  Some I thought were extinct.  But there they were, packing heat and making threats.  There were idle threats.  The weakest of my soldiers was more than a match for the strongest of them.  The strange soldiers must not have realized this, for they attacked.  But it was child's play for my legion.  I laughed at them and pretty much ridiculed the Kold Empire in general.

You know, there are moments in life that we would give anything to change.  Those infernally stupid mistakes made in youth you will regret for the rest of your life, starting from the moment you've made the mistake.  Alright, I didn't regret the words instantly.  I didn't even regret it when Frieza and his best warriors descended from the ship.  I did regret it when my legion was torn apart.

Beaten thoroughly.

Killed to a man.

Except me.

I'm not sure why Frieza spared my life.  I never begged for my life, or even made a sound as he was beating me.  When I did com to, though, I found myself healed, on his ship.  And he was ready to talk business.

He had been in communication with King Vegeta.  Not for ransom, because anyone would know that would be a ridiculous idea anyway you look at it.  Instead, he wanted to offer an alliance.  Now, it sounded beneficial at first.  In exchange for technology, nearby planets, and resources, we would take planet purging missions for him, all the while keeping our sovereignty.  On the surface, it actually sounded like a dream come true.  Even for me.  One of the conditions that Frieza gave was that I would become general of the Saiyan army.  There were no hard feelings about the recent battle, since both sides lost virtually the same.

But on the inside, it was slavery.  

Both sides had not lost the same.  While Frieza had lost a few expendable troops, we had lost a portion of the honor guard, the best of the Saiyans.  Frieza had proven his power, and was giving the Saiyan Empire the role of live-in servant.  Making us dependent on him.  And placing a man—a very young man—at the helm of the army.  A man who already had—if not fear—then a healthy respect for Frieza's power.

But it was this, or entropy.

I returned to Planet Vegeta in neither pride nor disgrace.  It was kind of a time of shock for the empire.  We had been unbeatable.  We were the great Saiyan Empire, for Pete's sake.  The ultimate warrior race.  And those tricks of empire-building that we were just learning had now been used on us by a seasoned pro.  We were now a minor ally.  The great Empire, instead of being fully born, had miscarried, and instead of quick death, we were forced to slowly bleed to death, the victim of a sadist.  Which was why upon my arrival to the royal palace I found General Baen dead.

Suicide, they'd said.  Well, the only way a suicide is performed on Planet Vegeta, a ritual battle you're sure to lose, usually against your own offspring.  In this case, his daughter.

Baen knew what would happen.  He believed the stories of Frieza, and had been the one to keep the Kold Empire removed from us.  He'd tried, and he'd failed.  I don't know whether it was cowardice—fear of Frieza—or shame of failure, or penance for dooming the Saiyan Empire to dead—and believing his death would help cover so many others.  But if I was any kind of Saiyan, I would have followed him to the grave—not succeeded him.  I took the office in shame.  Though King Vegeta tried to pep talk me, I took the office with blood on my hands and shame on my head.  A puppet general.

I watched the funeral, bearing the insignia barely cooled from being torn from General Baen's lifeless corpse.  The funeral was short; we do not wallow in sorrow.  His flesh was eviscerated, his bones preserved for posterity—a memento of a great man.  General Baen, the warrior.  General Baen, the hero.  General Baen, the mentor.  General Baen, the lifeless skeleton.

Okakra was beside me, in a place of honor.  There was no widow – only the daughter.  She was…

I won't go into how I felt.  It was inappropriate.  We'd known each other all our lives and she had just lost her father.  Besides, it was a time of disgrace.  For me—for her—for the empire.  I had to begin a job I'd gotten by default, and preserve the precarious situation somehow.  This was not the time.  I couldn't…

Okakra had other plans.  Or, at least, General Baen had.  He'd named me as his successor—to everything.  I would have his wealth, his title, his daughter… everything.  It was all written in his sarka.  The announcement of our espousal came a week later.

The mating was… passionate.  Perhaps it was our sadness of losing a father and mentor.  Or the fear of the Kold Empire, our new positions in life, the future in general.

But she despised me.  She blamed me for the death of her father and the Empire.  She believed I should have died along with my troops.  I had been thoroughly overpowered by Frieza.  She thought of me as a pawn of Frieza.  She hated that I loathed myself as much as she loathed me.

I despised her.  For killing Baen.  It wasn't logical.  I knew the custom.  Once Baen had requested death by her hands, she couldn't refuse.  Even if she had, the old general was stubborn, well near implacable.  Once he got an idea in his head, the only thing that could stop him was death.  So, his wanting suicide was really a win-win situation.  But, as I said, none of this was logical.  It was all chaos.  That's what happens when you allow emotion.

I wonder if I ever did love Okakra.  I respected her strength and status.  I mated with her.  We resided at the same house—her father's house—though I could rarely be at home.  But love her?  In the traditional Saiyan way of choosing a mate?

            I wonder…

Author's Notes: Special thanks to my reviewers: manga (Thanks for pointing out the spelling errors. I posted it late at night. Wouldn't want the Saiyan army to go around in lace), Sawnya (being another writer of pre- DBZ characters from Vegeta's past, I'm glad you're reading this. I read some of your stuff, only I'm not really into romance, hence my penname. But the Roshi stuff's hilarious), stormdeman (I'm one of those rare good fics? I'm flattered.), SaiyanPrincessZu (I'm sorry I haven't reviewed your fic lately. I've have a million assignments and writing inspiration for both of my fics at the same time. I'll get back on the ball, though.), and rara24 (patience, young rara. I do want to update, but my annoying life keeps getting in the way. Oh, well).  
  
If you haven't read Ki-Blind by Sholio, read it. It's just been finished, and quite long, but well worth it. Also, read anything by Doramouse, and visit the website. Doramouse is just one of those amazing writers. And finally, read The Fusions by chibigokan. One of the funniest parodies I've ever read. C'est tout.


	3. Suffer the Little Children

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, here I am again. Sorry for the delay in the update. Everything I would write I would deem as junk, so it took me a while to write something good. Hope you enjoy.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 3: Suffer the Little Children**

I actually had a dream.

Do you realize how long it's been since I've dreamt anything?  Probably not, since you've never met me.  Which is fortunate for you, because unless you're stronger than me, you'd be dead.  Of course, everyone dreams, but I just never remember dreams, until last time I slept.  It wasn't that profound a dream, either.  It was just a reliving of my days as a general.  I guess I've been thinking about that a lot lately.

Those days were not so bad.  So what if we were conquered peoples?  We weren't dead.  Life went on as usual.  I was constantly busy, so I didn't have time to feel anything.  We started receiving assignments, and I had to rebuild and mobilize the army.  Many soldiers were not ready to follow my rule, recognizing me as a poor substitute for Baen.  Frankly, I agreed.  But I had to fight against that.  I couldn't let it get to me, or show weakness.  If I had a lot on me when I was in charge of the honor guard, I was near overwhelmed in Baen's job.

I really hate talking about this.  I hate talking about my life.  I feel so self-pitying.  Like I'm saying I'm both a helpless victim and a gullible idiot.  I am neither of those.  I am a Saiyan warrior.  I am strong.

But let's be realistic.  There are always those who are stronger.  It took me a while to learn that lesson, but it's never left me.  I know I'm not invincible, though by all rights I should be dead by now.

In the dream I died.

Killed by the king, actually.  You'd think my imaginary demise would come from Frieza, or an elite soldier.  Not a dead man.  Only, the king looked different.  Shorter, maybe…

I guess him killing me would be logical at my dream's timeframe.  The king was rather unstable.  He was under constant threat from Frieza, since Frieza usually displaces the king with another, more loyal king.  Though that wouldn't have worked.  Only a male heir from the line of Vegeta could command the Saiyans, via telepathic bond.  We are only loyal to him.  Of course, Frieza knew that.  Smart devil.

King Vegeta was also lacking a male heir.  He'd been reigning for a decade, and all attempts had failed.  He'd taken mate after mate, but either the woman died in childbirth, taking the child with her, or she would miscarriage constantly, or she would simply lack the ability to conceive.  It was getting to be quite a problem.  Some of the more superstitious Saiyans said the king was cursed because of his failure at the hands of Frieza.  Man, I loved killing those people.  Nothing's better than the scream of a traitor.

No, really.  First they start blabbing their treachery, believing they can get others to join them.  Then they start insulting everyone and everything—me, the other soldiers, the king, Frieza…  The list just goes on and on.  Then they power up, determined to go down fighting.  That's why a clever executioner always has all people of higher power levels and greater battle experience to witness the death—we don't want to give a traitor the honor of taking someone with him.  He's lucky we give him last words and a final power up.  Then we attack, usually just one person.  It was actually a treat for me, for each one was different.  If he stayed strong, I'd give him a quick death.  But the really fun ones were those that started begging and crying.  Then I could slowly beat them to death.  I'd slap them around some to humiliate them.  Then I'd cut their Achilles tendons so they couldn't walk or stand.  They'd try to give me some trouble by fighting with their arms, but that wasn't a problem after I ripped their arms off.  Usually they would just painfully fade into death.  Their screams—were beautiful.  The only music I could appreciate.  They were the shame of the Saiyan Empire—weak traitors—and their extermination could only serve to strengthen us.  They deserved it.  They went against the king, and that is unforgivable.

Besides, it's not like failure causes you to be without child.  If it had, I would have remained without child.  As it was, a year after our joining, Okakra bore me a son.  The only good thing to ever come out of our union.  And the only thing we've ever agreed on was our child's name—Baen. 

I was so proud of the boy.  His power level alone made him first class elite.  He matured a year ahead of the other boys his age.  His intelligence was greater than my own, which is saying a lot for a Saiyan.  I was accused of favoring my son above the other soldiers.  Well, I did, but I never gave him any special treatment.  He moved up in rank all on his own.  The boy sure was something, destined to be a great man like his namesake.

I regret I couldn't see him much.  I had my hands full as it was.  Every day there was something new that had to be dealt with—new recruits, new assignments, new technology.  I wasn't alone, though.  I had a few warriors who remained loyal to me, rather than my rank—mostly those left over from the old honor guard.  Bardock was one of them.  He was the only one who could understand Kold Empire technology.  Despite his third class status, I convinced King Vegeta to make Bardock an advisor.  I wasn't criticized for this change of policy—no one wanted to die a slow and humiliating death.

Oh yes, people came to fear me.  I'd taken measures to that end.  Thankfully, advanced medical technology caused a sudden increase in birth rate; otherwise, I would have severely depopulated the Saiyan Empire.  Those who didn't follow the king, as well as the general, were killed.  It was as simple as that.  And there were many, at first.

Another superstition was also circulating—one that was not treasonous.  In fact, it was downright patriotic.  The legend of the Super Saiyan.  It was a story about a legendary Saiyan transformation, greater than Oozaru.  No one knew what it would look like, but prophesy told of another Super Saiyan to be born.  Many children were considered.  Even Baen was considered.  Of course, it was all nonsense.  I mean, the power levels much have been exaggerated.  No one could handle that much ki.  Even if they did, how could one Saiyan topple the entire Kold Empire in one fell swoop?  It's not logical.  Even if Frieza died, others would take his place, like his brother.  No empire could be formed without precautions.  Anyone knows that.  And no one warrior can take down Frieza.  It'll never happen.  Never.

Well, the Super Saiyan myth was just that—a myth.  But it was a unifying myth.  After two years of near anarchy and utter hopelessness, the warriors had something to rally behind.  Something to work toward.  I used this myth for all it was worth.  Super Saiyan became a national obsession.  Either you could train in hopes to reach that level, or you could train to produce stronger offspring—children who had more of a chance to transform.  If my power level raised by half a point every time I used the transformation as an incentive for a soldier, I would have transformed within a year.  The incentive was useful.  Not only did we have a boom in birth rates, we also had a boom in power levels.  Babies were getting stronger.  Children were maturing sooner, since they had to be recruited earlier to make up for the loss of older warriors.  In fact, the population grew so large, we were hard-pressed to get enough resources for all of the babies.  It takes a lot of food to feed a Saiyan.  Our planet was too arid to cultivate, even if we could keep enough slaves to handle such a project, and the resources we got from Frieza weren't enough.

This is where Bardock's genius shone through.  I think this plan was one of the few things that ever made King Vegeta smile.  Bardock and I worked long and hard on his idea before it was ready to implement.  But then, a year later, the first Saiyan baby was sent into space.

The plan was brilliant in its simplicity.  If Planet Vegeta gets too full, send the excess off-planet.  Namely, the ones below a certain power level.  More often than not, the children were third class.  Well, both parents were in the army, therefore unable to care for the child.  The child would be raised in the barracks anyway, with no one to personally look after it.  Not being of a high inherent power level, the child would be an expendable warrior that took up too much food and resources.  On another planet, the child could have abundant food and experience in battle and killing.  Power levels would grow, and they would return to be a useful warrior.  The children would learn everything better than they could in the barracks, and the planet they purged could then be turned over to Frieza.  When the warrior returned, they could stay in space with planet-purging legions.  Plus, the Saiyan race would be so widespread, simply destroying Planet Vegeta couldn't possibly destroy all the Saiyans.  I mean, as long as the child retained his memory and didn't die…

You'd think Frieza wouldn't have allowed this.  But he appeared to applaud it.  Maybe he saw the bigger threat in Saiyan solidarity.  This was definitely a move away from the clannish quality of Saiyan families, especially those of the third class.  Saiyans had begun as tribal, and now our family ties were disintegrating.  Or maybe Frieza didn't care one way or the other, although he did look uneasy about the growth in population and power levels.  Though I didn't truly know how nervous he was…

Author's Notes: Thanks to my reviewers: Sawnya (I always thought the early Saiyan got gipped, even in fanfiction. And I knew they couldn't be as stupid and evil as they are made out to be. And, you're welcome.), manga (I _was_ going to say something about the misspelling, but anyway I put it just sounded mean. Thanks for the compliment on Nappa's characterization. For one, it's impossible to write a POV fic and present such a two- dimensional character. I don't believe in vilifying anyone, and Nappa wouldn't feel right as an innocent.), and tim333 (I thought it was unforturnate that the only people who knew about Saiyan culture were either dead, suffering from memory loss, or, in Vegeta's case, either too tight- lipped to tell anything or too young to remember. The description King Kai gave of the Saiyans was horrible in the Saiyan Saga, as well as severely contradicted in the Frieza Saga. He vilified the Saiyans too much. Anyway, I'm loving your Krillen story. Can't wait until you update.) As always, remember to review. C'est tout.


	4. Only Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's notes: I'm truly sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out. I've been revising my other stories AS WELL AS an evil week with four rather large tests. Needless to say, I've been busy. And I didn't know what to write next. But I finally got it out. Enjoy!  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body: Chapter 4 **

**Only Hope**

We destroyed a planet a while ago.

I used to get excited over destroying planets.  Something about the rush of power—the big explosions—the bright flashes of light—the cries of the dying—warriors and civilians, nobility and peasants, women and children…  It's all the same.  They all die.  And you're the cause.  You get to be god and bring apocalypse.  It's kind of funny when you see people begging for their god's help—whether it be male, female, or giant pink frog.  There was once some sort of priest who asked me why I didn't have flaming breasts.  Crazy stuff like that.  Seems to unite the universe into one big ironic joke.  Even in the infinite diversity with infinite combinations, people die.

But maybe I've seen too many deaths.  I haven't enjoyed a planet purge in a long time.  I put up a front for Prince Vegeta's sake, but I can't stand it anymore.  The screams just don't do it for me.  Over and over and over… thousands of planets… for nearly half a century…

It just gets boring!

That's how those years as general were like. Handling assignments, killing, being under constant pressure, fearing Frieza… it was boring.  What used to be a common goal for the betterment of the Saiyan Empire—it was work.  Chores.  No fun.

My son was three, and already he had surpassed children three times his age, physically and mentally.  Baen was not old enough to hold an official rank, but he was already receiving citations from King Vegeta himself.  The boy was moved up the super elite.  It was the king who appointed the boy as my assistant.  I was glad to spend more time with my boy—more time than Okakra got with him—but I thought King Vegeta's interest in my boy was strange, since he was rather bitter about children at the time.  I thought maybe he was simply interested in bringing up stronger warriors.  After all, we WERE planning a rebellion.

Surprised, are you?  You shouldn't be.  You didn't think we'd (pardon the expression) keep our tails tucked between our legs for long?  We were Saiyans.  A Saiyan only serves his king, and the king serves no one.  This indentured service to Frieza was an abomination, and it had to be stopped.

The options were limited.  What do you do to a being that could destroy your entire race with a single shot and less thought?  From what we'd seen from other races rebelling against us, not a whole lot.  At least no overt frontal assaults.  We'd just get laughed at and killed.  We had to rely on strategy and deceit.  Unfortunately, subtlety is not a typical Saiyan's strong suit.  I believe I've illustrated the normal Saiyan mental capacities already.  One of our few weaknesses as a race.  Of course, anyone with any kind of position in Saiyan society must be very intelligent.  We simply wanted to make that intelligence more widespread.

We milked the Kold Empire for all the resources it would give us—including education.  The military schools became more advanced and competitive.  To a small extent, we got Saiyan children to go along with purging teams, hoping that they could have the chance to learn from smarter fighters.  And to get them away from Planet Vegeta.  That was another aspect of our plan.  We wanted to keep our race as spread-out as possible, so we couldn't be exterminated in a single shot.  What can I say?  Our hope was in our children.

Which was why the throne needed an heir!

King Vegeta had just lost his tenth wife.  This time she died in childbirth along with the child.  By now options were getting limited for him.  Though it was no longer said aloud, the notion of the king being cursed remained firmly implanted in the minds of all Saiyans.  Even I thought it was ridiculous.  All we needed was one boy—hell, we would have settled for a girl.  Anyone to bear the name Vegeta and carry on the family line.  You know, for a while I thought King Vegeta was considering to adopt Baen and name him as his heir.  Of course I wouldn't have objected.  I would have gladly given up my son if it were for such a cause.  But it just wouldn't have helped.  He wasn't in the Vegeta bloodline.  Every Saiyan has the ability to form a limited number of telepathic bonds, but only the royal bloodline had the ability to hold a telepathic bond with every Saiyan.  That was where our loyalty came from.  My son couldn't do that.  It was foolish.  But I just didn't understand the king's interest.

I found out soon enough.

I can't help but think about that planet we fried recently.  It was unremarkable, downright depressing.  The place was all in ruins, and the only standing structure I saw was a gladiatorial coliseum presided over by a foolish weakling king.  If he'd have looked out in space once in a while instead of trashing his own planet, he would have known that he didn't stand a chance against us.  But instead, he kept poisoning his own planet with no respect for its potential intrinsic price.  Really, it was an eyesore.  Beyond repair, with no use or value.  I'm really glad Prince Vegeta blew it up.  Really, I am.  It's just that… I couldn't help but notice something.

I don't really remember their names.  I'm not good with names anyhow, especially unimportant ones.  But they were in love.  Even a hardened cynical killer like me could see that.  Only… he was in the cage, and she was with the king.  A king who had taken another man's wife.  And when they were reunited after the king's death, I almost hated to see the two die…  Not enough to save them, of course.  They were beyond saving.  But it reminded me so much of…

I was 24.  It was late one evening, and I was again in strategy session with King Vegeta.  We were up late practically every night, though we would usually have Bardock or someone with us.  Bardock had gone home early to work on a project (a way to make Saiyan's tails less vulnerable, actually.  But I'll get deeper into that later).  We were getting nowhere, and trying to wrap up the session, when the king once again asked me about my son.  I said my customary summary of his progress.  It had become routine.  But then he asked me about my mate.  And why I havn't had a second child.  For a second I naively thought he was scolding me for not producing more strong warriors.  It was my duty, since Okakra had already proven she could conceive and bear easily and well.  That was still a problem for a lost of Saiyan women.  So I was half-expecting a lecture when I told him that I hadn't lain with my mate in a while.  You must realize that Saiyans are more open talking about sex.  There's nothing unnatural about it, especially if it's with your mate.  So a lecture about fulfilling husbandly duties from the king wouldn't have been out of place, especially since he was a decidedly older man.  But the lecture never came.  He actually seemed happy and interested.

I knew what he wanted then.  He didn't have to tell me, though I knew he would give the order eventually.  There was nothing I could do.  The oath of loyalty to a king is stronger than the oath of loyalty to a mate.

I went home soon after, not sure what to feel.  I despised Okakra.  Couldn't stand to be around her.  You'd think I'd be happy to be rid of her.  She was a distraction anyway.  I shouldn't have given her another thought.  But she was my mate.  She belonged to me—and no one else.

Okakra was there when I got home, reading a military tactics journal.  Baen was already asleep at the other end of the house, and Okakra was already lying in bed, the only light was a lamp beside her, which highlighted her tan skin and black hair with an orange glow.  I never truly realized what a beauty she was until that moment.  There in bed, large black eyes following the words in front of her, not acknowledging me in the least.

I took her that night.  It had been months, but the passion in the moment had not died.  She, at first, resisted out of confusion.  But she couldn't refuse me.  I don't think she wanted to.  I took her more than once, knowing that it would be the last time.

Afterwards we watched the sun come up over the rustic cliffs outside our window.  We'd barely spoken a word all night.  I think Okakra knew something was going to happen, and didn't want to spoil our night together.  But the time had come.  I informed her of my decision.  I was going to give her to King Vegeta.  Half of me expected anger from her at being treated like a commodity.  The other half expected happiness at getting rid of me and moving up in rand.  But all there was was quiet acceptance.  She knew marriage was not love.  It was duty.

The marriage of King Vegeta and Queen Okakra took place three days later.  I had offered Okakra to the king voluntarily, signifying an immediate divorce.  I think the king was glad that he hadn't been required to order this.  I was certainly glad.  I found more honor by volunteering.  I played the role of the father in the ceremony, signifying my willingness.  Okakra was the first to bear the title queen since King Vegeta's first wife—mostly because of the rank she already possessed.

Baen was not affected in rank.  Once Queen Okakra married the king, all ties to me and our son were severed.  Baen was already high in rank as a warrior, and he certainly couldn't become a prince.  He was my son, and stayed that way.  He no longer had a mother.

I rarely saw Queen Okakra ever again, even when I spent long hours with the king.  I sometimes wondered how King Vegeta could produce an heir, since he never seemed to have a free moment.  I didn't dwell on those thoughts for very long.  For some reason that train of thought just made me ill.

Apparently, King Vegeta HAD found time, since the next time I saw Okakra eight months later she was very pregnant.  That would explain the king's recent optimism.  And Okakra looked—happy.  Happier than any time she was married to me.  I guess then I was glad that I had let her go.

I was a little worried, though.  Taking into account King Vegeta's history of procreation, and the earliness of the pregnancy, it would have been a tragedy if the child had been mine.  In fact, I was scared to death of that.  I truly didn't know how King Vegeta would react.  I was so afraid of being killed by Frieza, but could the king kill me in a rage?  The day of the birth couldn't come soon enough.  I think I was even more anxious than King Vegeta.

But the day of the birth did arrive, and I needn't have worried.  I was present in the throne room at the time of the announcement.  Queen Okakra had easily given birth to a healthy baby boy.  When the child was taken before the king, I was finally able to breathe easy.  The child was an exact replica of the king, so much it was uncanny.  The only sounds from the throne room were the wails of the child and the pronouncement of the power readings.

We were in awe.  Even the king was speechless.  I was expecting a strong child, but this was ridiculous.  His birth power reading was stronger than the king's present power reading.  The king!  The strongest Saiyan alive.  And his son was stronger.

It was then I started to have hope.  The boy was a miracle.  His people's only hope—future savior.  He would be the one to destroy Frieza—I just knew it.  Everyone knew it.  And if there was a Super Saiyan level, which I started to rethink my skepticism, he would be the one to reach it.  I swore an oath, then and there, along with my required oath of allegiance, to always protect him.  No matter what.

Prince Vegeta, if you are reading this, I still believe in you.  I know what you've been through.  I know you've been shown that you are weaker than many of the elite in Frieza's army.  I know you've been put through every torture, both physical and mental.  I know you no longer have a planet or a people to rule.  I know you can never be the king.  It looks difficult now.  We have rebelled against Frieza, and my days are numbered.  I know that.  But I have utter faith in you.  You will be the one to kill Frieza.  And of all people, you are the only one who I believe can turn Super Saiyan.  Don't give up when I'm gone.  Fight with all your might.  And you will be victorious.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Zero3 (Don't I know it!), Renee the Rabid Squirrel (Love that penname.), StormDeman59, and manga (Ok, the reason I made Bardock a scientist is because Vegeta said he was in the English dub of the Saiyan saga. I know there are a lot of anti-dub people out there, but more people have watched it. Plus, I love the movies, but I don't count them. Notice I don't make any mention of Paragus and Brolli. Most of the movies are AUs anyway. I know the Bardock special isn't an AU, but oh well. Additionally, the series portrays Nappa as incredibly stupid. I'm trying to take different approaches to all the Saiyans. So I made Bardock a scientist. I did make him strong, though. I could have created an original Saiyan to be the scientist, because I did need a scientist, but I just decided to use Bardock. Anyway). Love the reviews. Keep them coming. C'est tout.


	5. Our Lives Were Over

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Back with another chapter. I finally got this one out! Enjoy.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 5: Our Lives Were Over**

The empire had five years to live.

Now, that's depressing, don't you think?  After all, I made such a big deal about the birth of the prince, and the planned rebellion, that there ought to be a happy ending.  Believe me, if I could have written a happy ending, I would have.  Just thinking of those five years between the birth of the prince and the death of the king makes me want to vomit.  We had hope—foolish hope.  There's one thing about hope: it's infectious.  The incredibly strong prince Vegeta had brought us hope, and it was beginning to affect me.

There's also something about planning.  Doing something.  Military uprising is the best.  Warriors training.  Sending out children.  Grabbing key resources from planets whenever we could.  Discreetly, of course.  The most important thing I learned during that time was discretion.  Before Frieza, it was considered shameful to use trickery and deceit.  We were all about honor and fair fights.  Well, that changed.  I had to forget about honor.  We all did.  Win by any means necessary, even if it means giving up everything—all honor, all self, all scruples, all ethics, all attachments, all civility…  We were a new breed of Saiyans transformed completely within the ten years of Frieza's rule.  I don't mourn the change.  We had to adapt to survive.  Survival and retribution at all costs.

Frieza was scared.  I didn't realize it at the time, but I realize it now.  Saiyans were uncontrollable, and had no limit to our power.  And he was the one providing us with the means to our power.  As long as we were alive, and doing missions for him, we would get stronger and stronger and have stronger and stronger progeny.  There is no other race that has our potential, and it was really scaring Frieza.  He knew that in a few decades, at least one of us would surpass him in power.  So, our attempts at rebellion usually had to be aborted immediately because of Frieza's close watch.  Fewer Saiyan children were sent out, and the one's who were tended to meet with "unfortunate accidents."  Frieza knew what we were up to and I had to battle against panic every day.  I don't know who was more afraid: Frieza or me.

But I knew there was hope.  I knew it every time I looked at the prince.  My prince.  He was developing in strength, intelligence, and maturity even faster than my son Baen, who was still considered a prodigy.  I guess my admiration for the prince showed, because before I knew it the king had me training the prince.  So I did.  In fact, up to the point where I ignored my own son.

I'm not proud of that.  I didn't know I only had a few years left with Baen.  I didn't realize that now he didn't have any parents.  I didn't even understand the significance of parents.  I mean, come on, it's not like I had any parents.  I don't even remember their names now.   I never had them, and never needed them.  I would think that Baen would be happy to be rid of me, so that he could train and grow unimpeded.  That's certainly how I felt about my parents.  In fact, I couldn't keep Baen around me any longer.

It wasn't just that I was too busy, I suppose.  I was just… he reminded me too much of her.  No, that's not it, because Prince Vegeta reminded me so much of her that it was painful to look at the child sometimes.  Still is.  But Baen reminded me of what I'd lost—what we'd had together—what I'd given up, and could never recapture.  I'd loved her, and I'd been too stupid and too caught up with other matters to see it.  And it was killing me.  So, I pushed Baen back.  I gave him to Bardock to train.  Bardock already had a boy, so maybe Baen could have a comrade in his own generation.  It got Baen out of my hair and gave him opportunities.  It was the perfect arrangement.

Except Baen didn't think so.  The little bugger actually got angry at me.  Me!  His father.  The man who'd raised him and given him every opportunity.  I'd trained him—taken him as my own assistant before his age was even in the double-digits.  He was an ungrateful brat, and I told him just that.  Then I told him to get out.  Of course, I was already sending him to Bardock to live with him, but I hadn't planned on throwing the boy out.  I had actually planned on walking him over.  Instead, he took his stuff and stormed out.

I never saw him again.  He was only seven when he left home, and he was ten when he died in Planet Vegeta's explosion.  And I wasn't there.  I was with Prince Vegeta.

As we began to be watched more closely by Frieza, my usefulness as a strategist began to dwindle.  There wasn't much we could do.  The only thing I could do was devote myself to the prince's training.

He would be horrified if I said it now, and would probably kill me (too bad, Vegeta.  I'm already dead.), but the prince was a delightful child.  At first I tried to keep his strength and potential a secret from him, but that didn't work.  He was too much under the spotlight.  But he was far removed from Frieza, so he had a relatively sheltered five years.  The boy was strong, but wickedly devious.  I did train him and teach him the new Saiyan way of life I described earlier, but he learned it frighteningly well.  Some of the things he pulled I didn't even teach him.  It was like second nature to him.  When he was three, he started beating me up.  We were a match in power at the time, but the prince was too slippery to hold down.  He could just outthink me.  This, of course, gave him a low opinion of my intelligence early on.  Never mind that I actually taught him most of the things he used against me, and he had simply modified them to their advantage.

But the tricks weren't only in fighting.  He learned the art of the practical joke at an early age, and after a day or so of when the joke was pulled off, after he had alluded all investigations, the prince would proudly announce that he was the culprit, and if anyone had a problem with that, then they could take it up with him.  His jokes ranged from stealing the uniforms from a military locker room to putting a cat in the king's throne.  After a while his pranks got a bit more imaginative.  One of my favorites, and the most thought out, was when he added a certain chemical, which I still can't find now, in the shower water.  This chemical caused anyone who showered there to lose all stiffness in his hair.  The hair returned to normal after a few days, but for a while he had half the palace looking extremely ridiculous.  Lucky for him the king wasn't affected.

You'd think King Vegeta would be furious with his son's behavior.  I certainly wouldn't have let Baen get away with anything that Prince Vegeta pulled.  But being the hope of the Saiyan people had its advantages.  The king humored the child, almost encouraging him in his imaginative pastime.  Of course, if the king humored the boy, then everyone else did too.  Prince Vegeta got a reprimand and extra hours of endurance training as punishments, if he was even punished at all.  Especially since I was the only one who would punish him.  Especially since I was one of two the prince would actually take instruction and reprimand from.

I remember Prince Vegeta asking me what a Super Saiyan was.  I really didn't know, but at least I didn't buy into some of the more colorful interpretations of the legend.  Blonde hair?  How was that able to increase power?  A change in hair and eye color was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard of.  Why exactly would you be blonde?  What purpose would it serve, besides making you stand out more in a fight?  Your head would become an eye-catching target, since attention is invariably drawn to lighter colors.  It just wouldn't be practical, no matter how strong you were.  Not only that, I didn't truly believe in the Super Saiyan legend.  How strong WERE you supposed to get.  If no one had reached it yet, then the power level must have to be ridiculously high.  Even now, Vegeta is insanely powerful, and he shows no signs of any transformation.

But Vegeta needed hope, just like everybody else.  He needed something to shoot for.  You must remember, the threat of Frieza was so far removed from the prince, that Prince Vegeta didn't bear the same hate and fear of Frieza that I did.  Maybe that was a good thing, but I still needed to provide motivation.  So I told Vegeta that if he reached the level of Super Saiyan, he would be the strongest being in the universe and none could oppose him.  That got him obsessed with Super Saiyan, an obsession that hasn't left him to this day.

I guess now I've gotten to the day that I really don't want to write about.  I must write about it though.  It needs to be said.  And I can remember it in every detail.

It was one month before the explosion of Planet Vegeta.  I woke up after a three hour sleep to find the palace in disarray.  One look out the window showed me the reason.  What I initially took for a sun spot was actually something far worse.  Something that made my hair feel electrified.

Frieza's ship.

I ran to the throne room as fast as I could, thankfully before Frieza showed up.  King Vegeta looked like he'd had the same wake-up call as I did, though he schooled his expression so that only the lines of worry around his eyes gave any emotion away.  I remember sending a servant to make sure the prince stayed in the training room, since I'd been suspicious that he was going to pull a prank that very morning.  It just wasn't a good time—not with Frieza there.

I walk to my customary place next to King Vegeta's throne.  I remember quietly asking him if he knew what Frieza could possibly want.  But before he could answer, the tyrant had arrived, along with an entourage that rivaled a normal Saiyan battalion.  I think I even recognized some of the soldiers from my time in captivity, but of course in some races everyone looks pretty much the same.  I remember the exact words, and will record them:

King Vegeta rose from his throne and bowed deeply to Frieza, while all the other Saiyans followed suit.  "Lord Frieza.  It is an honor to serve you."

Frieza looked on with a cold smirk, and answered with a voice that wouldn't have been out of place from a kindly old grandmother, except for the disdain and superiority practically dripping from each word.  "My dear King Vegeta.  A pleasure to see you.  You may rise."  As we rose, the lizard regarded me.  "And, of course, General Nappa.  I'm glad to see you're doing well.  A far cry from the last time I saw you ten years ago."

I nearly burned in shame.  He was putting us in our place.  I couldn't speak.  I merely bowed my head, trying to hide the anger in my eyes.  I would have just been asking for anything from more humiliation to a prompt execution.  Stay alive at all costs.

King Vegeta then went into a summarized progress report of the Saiyan conquests, but it soon became clear that wasn't what Frieza wanted.  He'd come here on an entirely different matter.  "Tell me, King Vegeta, how is your son doing?"

That's when I began to panic.  This was all painfully familiar.  It was too much like King Vegeta's interest in Okakra.  I knew Frieza couldn't want Okakra, since he wouldn't want to breed with a Saiyan, but the prince…

The king had never been on the receiving end of this.  He didn't see what was coming, but I did.  I didn't even hear the ensuing conversation, but I knew what the king was going through.  God, how I knew.  And, of course, I was right.  Frieza wanted Prince Vegeta.  And there was nothing anyone could do about it.  The king did the only thing he could do.  He agreed.

After Frieza left in triumph, saying that he expected the prince in a day's time, King Vegeta was silent.  For once, his mask was off, and I saw a reflection of myself.  This was the ultimate sacrifice for survival.  He cared so deeply for the prince, his only son, that he had worked so hard for.  The hope of the Saiyan race, delivered into the cold hands of that lizard tyrant—that psychopath.  And he couldn't take care of him.

But I could.

It was then I decided that I would follow the prince.  King Vegeta went on about how the boy's captivity would be only temporary, since he and all the elite Saiyans would attack Frieza and kill him, getting his son back.  But this was just the ravings of a grief-sick man.  However, he could not persuade me to stay, especially when Queen Okakra got involved.  She'd been listening to the entire exchange, and practically ordered me to care for their son.  I saw it in her eyes.  I was the only one she still trusted, even after all we'd gone through.  Afterwards, in private, she entreated me to care for Prince Vegeta.  Not only that, she told me to take care of myself.  She smiled at me, and left for her palace apartment.  That was the last I saw of my dear Okakra, my wife and my queen.

Prince Vegeta was none too keep about leaving.  In fact, he pitched a fit.  That was the first time I'd ever seen him lose his temper, but it wouldn't be the last.  He destroyed the training room, and almost killed one of Frieza's minions when he came to finally escort us to the ship.  Neither the king nor the queen saw Prince Vegeta off.  I'm not sure whether they were making it easier of him or easier on themselves.  Maybe both.  So we took one last look at our home, and boarded the shuttle that took us to Frieza's ship.

Frieza was at first a bit wary of a general serving as Vegeta's bodyguard, but it was soon apparent that there was little I could do in the way of protection.  As soon as we were sufficiently far away from Planet Vegeta, the prince threw another tantrum.  But this time, he learned that no one was going to be humoring him now.  Both of us were beaten within an inch of our lives, and, since I'd insisted on staying with the prince, and Prince Vegeta insisted on having my company, we were promised the same punishment all the time, no matter who disobeyed.  A month went like this.  We lost all track of time and all track of where we were.  Despite the fact that I was supposed to take care of Prince Vegeta and keep him company, we were often put in pitch-black cells by ourselves, with only occasional beating to break up the monotony.

At least, until it happened.

I felt—something.  I couldn't tell what.  But it made me feel more pain than a thousand of Frieza's beatings.  But Vegeta got the worse of it.  The boy was telepathically linked to every Saiyan, which kept him from going completely insane in the isolation cells.  He always knew his people were there.

At least, until they weren't.  Until they all died, and the entire planet blew.

Did you know I was bald?  I wasn't born bald.  I was actually rather proud of my hair.  It was the hair of an elite.  I don't have it anymore.  That day I shaved it.  That day, I'd lost my son.  That day, I'd lost my king.  That day, I'd lost my people.  That day, I was no longer a general.  That day, I was no longer a Saiyan.  I was simply Nappa, now a minor elite soldier in Frieza's army, along with the prince of a dead people.  A prince I'd sworn to protect, yet I didn't know how.

Prince Vegeta was five.  I was thirty.

Our lives were over.

Author's Notes: Well, what do you think? I can't believe the response I'm getting from this story. Enough to make me sit here for three hours straight to write and edit another chapter. Thanks to my reviewers: Renee the Rabid Squirrel, Sawnya (my best? I guess I'd better start taking this story more seriously), StormDeman59 (thanks for the compliment, but I don't really like cursing. But I really, really appreciate the compliment), manga (I know you weren't criticizing. I'm not defensive. And now that I'm reading the DBZ manga I see just how painfully stupid the dubs are), and Blue Eyes, White Hydra77415 (awesome concept for a card, but the odds are that you will play Exodia, or even find Exodia, before you ever fuse four Blue Eyes. I prefer to see less power and more strategy. I love the nasty little trap cards and effect monsters. Oh, and I'll explain Nappa's stupidity in the show). Thanks again for the reviews! C'est tout.


	6. The Worst Thing

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: It took a while, but I was finally able to write this. And I wrote it all in one night in a burst of creative energy. *yawns* When I should have been studying. Oh, well. Hope you enjoy it.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 6: The Worst Thing**

You know what was the worst thing about my—shall we say—new situation?  It was the uniform.  It was horrible.  I'm not fashion conscious in the least, but even I was disgusted by what I was required to wear.  It had huge ugly shoulder things.  And it was the wrong color.  Saiyan uniforms are green.  These WEREN'T.  Plus, I couldn't wear a cape.  Only Zarbon wore a cape, and I think it was because he was gay.  But it was a sign of the elite in the Saiyan Empire.  Capes were a sign of elite, not being gay.  I liked wearing a cape.  Yes, the uniform had to be the worst thing about serving Frieza.  Definitely.

And you're actually buying this.  Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?  Are you crazy?  What, you think I was worried about clothing when I was being beaten to a bloody pulp?  You think I cared that I wasn't wearing green when I was locked in a completely dark cell with no food and water for days?  That of all the things I lost in my enlistment and Planet Vegeta's explosion, the only thing I missed was my cape?  What's wrong with you?!

Alright.  I'm fine now.  Just a little nervous energy.  I've been cooped up in this space pod for too long.  Now, where was I?

So, as I was saying, the torture was definitely the worst part of my service to Frieza.  I was beaten to within an inch of my life, healed, and then beaten again.  I know that each time I nearly reached death I got stronger (one of the many perks to being a Saiyan), but I honestly didn't notice it.  My healthy times were far too brief.  And the people who beat me were so far above me that I didn't notice the increase in strength while trying to defend myself.  Imagine my surprise when I finally got a look at my power reading.  My strength had nearly tripled.  But it was nothing compared to the prince.

Prince Vegeta was having more trouble adjusting.  He'd never once had a blow to his pride.  He'd lived a relatively sheltered life.  Always fighting under the protective supervision of either the king or myself.  Always given free reign of the palace.  After all, it was HIS palace.  He could say whatever he wanted, do whatever he wanted, and blast or ignore anyone who opposed him—the king and myself excluded.  He always understood it was in his best interest to obey us.  He knew when to play along.  I guess that's what made him survive all these years.

Prince Vegeta didn't truly understand Frieza's power, or the extent of Frieza's dominion.  He was used to viewing the Saiyan Empire as the most powerful force in the universe.  No one told him that, but since he was the prince of it, it had to have been the most powerful.  It came as a true shock to him that so many people were stronger than him, and more of a shock that a simple meteor shower could reduce the great Saiyan Empire to two.  Oh, he tried to make his life the same.  He threw tantrums… showed no respect for rank or strength… openly defied Frieza…  It's funny.  I knew I would get the beating of my life for his tantrums and defiance, but I felt like cheering him on.  Or I thought about maybe just killing him and giving him a gentler death than he would receive at the hands of Frieza.  You know, his occasional bouts of defiance still occur.  Well, besides what we're doing now, of course.  I swear, he'll be the death of me.

Of course, Frieza immediately set about breaking Vegeta's spirit.  I'm not sure which was worse—the beatings or the insults.  Frieza taunted us, but especially Vegeta, about everything.  His weakness.  His monkey-like qualities.  (Which was rich coming from the overgrown purple lizard.)  His age.  His lost kingdom.  His meaningless title.  His uncaring, dead father.  And all Vegeta could do was take it.  Sometimes, when it got really quiet at what I supposed was night, I could hear him faintly through the wall that separated our cells.  He was sobbing his guts out.  Poor kid probably thought no one could hear him.  Probably held in all the tears until he was alone so he couldn't give Frieza the satisfaction of hearing him cry.  I wish I could have sheltered him.  Still do.

I don't know how long we were on the ship, going through what I now believe is the usual warrior orientation program.  It could have been years for all I knew.  Eventually, however, the ship landed at a base.  Frieza's capital.  The planet was called Frieza 39.  Same goes for the main city on the planet.  I would say something snide about this, but hey… Planet Vegeta.  We have no room to talk about that.  Anyway.  We were healed and given clean uniforms.  Not even Frieza would bring us out there in a vulnerable state.  I'm telling you, it was a nightmare.  I came to understand the warriors there after a time, since I probably became much more like them, but at that moment, I thought I was in Hell.  All suffering and pain.  The only happiness seemed to be at the expense of newbies and weaker warriors.  And slaves.  On Planet Vegeta, every warrior, which means every person, respected every other warrior.  It was a matter of honor not to point out other's weaknesses, unless, of course, the warrior forfeited their honor—usually through treason or cowardice.  But in the center of the Kold Empire, the maxim "Only the strongest survive" was taken to its extreme.  Constant vigilance and competition was a way of life.

One good thing happened, though.  The constant beatings stopped—or at least became less frequent.  I was surprised to be named an elite, and given private quarters next to Prince Vegeta.  The room was nothing to call home.  It was tiny and sparse.  But it was private.  Starting out, the room was covered with listening devices and cameras, but once you found and destroyed all of them, they were never replaced.  Since everyone did that, Frieza couldn't expend the resources to constantly rebug all the warrior's rooms.  Of course, that didn't stop him from occasionally surprising a warrior, especially if the warrior was already suspect.  A smart warrior checked his room every day and before any private conversation.  Even an innocent conversation became treason.

The first night was the worst.  Prince Vegeta and I, once released from our official orientation, set about acclimating ourselves to our surroundings.  Frieza's palace was actually more of a huge military base.  Thankfully, Prince Vegeta had a better sense of direction than I had, or else I would have been lost.  The corridors and rooms all looked the same.  Of course, the entire complex was integrated into a computer system that all warriors had clearance to, but we didn't know that on our first night there.  Our "orientation" had not covered that.  It had mostly just covered the rules, and how dead you would be if you disobeyed.  I guess that's all you really you needed to know immediately.

No, there was something else.  A warning would have been nice.  How were we supposed to know that gangs of warriors target newbies?  Mostly just to show them their place.  Sometimes officers sent out teams just to test the warriors under adverse conditions, to see if they could hold up on planet purges.  Commanding officers are constantly in competition with each other, and need competent subordinates just to keep their position.  But still, I really would have appreciated a warning.

I'm not sure if this was a random attack or an official attack, but in one of the corridors outside of a training room, the two of us were ambushed.  It took us completely by surprise.  It shouldn't have, but we had not acquired the state of constant vigilance yet.  At the Saiyan palace, no one would have attacked the prince and the general.  Not if they wanted to continue to draw breath.

It was six against two, but the match was actually kind of equal.  This made the other soldiers nervous.  Fighting was not allowed in the corridors.  After some pretty impressive coordination, they six managed to maneuver the fight into the training room.  And guess who was in that training room?  None other than a fellow Saiyan—the son of Bardock, Raditz.  I was so happy to see the boy I almost forgot about the fight.  Not for long, though.  In my distraction, five of the warriors ganged up on the prince.  Prince Vegeta has always been an amazing fighter, and that fight was no exception, but even he was getting overwhelmed.  Raditz noticed immediately, and quickly joined in the fray, making it three against six.  By the time we were finished, one of the soldiers was dead, and the others barely had enough strength to crawl their way to rejuvenation tanks.

I'll admit, I might not have fared as well as I did without Raditz.  He had been missing for a year, and Bardock had actually believed that either Raditz had run away, since he was almost a man at eleven, or had been killed.  In truth, he had been ambushed on a planet purge and enlisted into Frieza's army.  And he'd survived, without any help.  You can say whatever you want about Raditz's intelligence, but you've got to admire him for just surviving.  Not many can do that.

Raditz then walked with us back to our quarters.  At least, I thought that was what he was doing.  Seems that all the Saiyans had been placed next to each other.  All meaning three.  It was an eerie feeling, being the only ones left.  And taking advice from an eleven-year-old boy.  But I have to admit, we needed it.  He told us about the computer system, the training, everything.  Then he helped us rid our rooms of the surveillance equipment.  For once Prince Vegeta did not scoff at this "third-class warrior" telling him what to do.  The boy was more scared than he was letting on.  The boy was pride itself.  Nevertheless, he was still a child of five, and he was soon asleep on his bed.  Raditz and I left the prince's room quietly to debug my room.

After the debugging, my hardest task lay before me.  I had to tell Raditz about Planet Vegeta.  The boy seemed to take it calmly, but I could tell he was crushed.  He had been close to his father, and had hoped to someday escape Frieza and return.  In a few words, I crushed his hope, almost his will to survive.  I could see it in his eyes.  Suicide is not very difficult when you're a soldier of Frieza, and Raditz was seriously contemplating it.  It breaks my heart to think of one so young thinking so little of life.  Indeed, having so little to live for.  I tried to reassure him, but everything I tried seemed to fail.  Vengeance.  Super Saiyan.  The Prince.  A possible life after Frieza.  Everything.  Thank whatever deity is out there I remembered about Kakarrot.

Not long before I left Planet Vegeta, Bardock had had another son—the spitting image of him.  I remember the boy had the lungs of an elite, despite his low birth power level.  I also remembered the boy had been scheduled for relocation, and he would have left long before Planet Vegeta's demise.  When I told Raditz of this… well, words cannot do justice to how much it worked.  His mood was completely changed.  He was not alone.  How I envied him.

We spent the rest of the night sharing information and planning strategy.  It painfully reminded me of the useless strategy sessions I used to have with Bardock.  Raditz was definitely not as bright as his father, but he had the right strategy.  Follow orders, and survive at all costs.  This was our battle plan, and this was how we agreed to teach Prince Vegeta.  Despite all that had happened, the prince was the only hope against Frieza.  We truly believed that.  Even Raditz, jaded as he was from the nightmarish life of one of Frieza's soldiers.

Raditz left me soon afterwards, since he was almost reeling from lack of sleep.  I guess I should have gotten sleep that night as well, but I just couldn't.  There was no way.  That night had to be the longest night of my life.  I laid awake in bed, finally acquiring the paranoia needed in Frieza's soldiers.  My life was not my own anymore, and I knew I wouldn't last long.  I was too smart and not strong enough.  And I was the only thing standing in between Frieza and total dominion over Prince Vegeta.  I had to do something.  Therefore, I made the hardest decision I've ever had to make.

I said that torture was the worst part of my service to Frieza.  I realize now that's a lie.  The worst part was what I had to give up.  I gave up my pride when Frieza annexed the Saiyan Empire.  I gave up my mate to the king for the sake of an heir to the throne.  I gave up my son in order to teach that heir to the throne.  I gave up my life in order to protect the prince.  And I gave up my saiyan-ness when I shaved my head of my Saiyan locks.  So what did I have left?  I had strength, and I had intelligence.

It's a known fact that Frieza hates intelligent warriors.  Dumb warriors follow orders and don't take initiative.  Intelligent warriors think for themselves.  Intelligent warriors know they're in humiliating servitude.  Intelligent warriors rebel.  Anyone showing too much intelligence can easily be executed for treason.  And I knew traitors did not receive painless executions.  I executed enough traitors in my day to know that.  It was definitely not an enviable death.  And I had to stay alive.  So, I decided to be stupid.

I had always prided myself for my keen mind, but repressing, or at least hiding, my intelligence was the smartest thing I ever did.  I did it for many reasons.  I've already mentioned one reason.  But there was another, almost more important, reason.  I realized I was now responsible for two Saiyan boys—Prince Vegeta and Raditz.  I was most responsible for Prince Vegeta.  I had to make sure he grew into the strong warrior prince who would avenge us all.  But how would he learn to be a prince and lead?  Certainly not while I was in command.  The boy was used to taking my orders, but that had to change.  He had to grow up fast and think for himself, as well as take responsibility for the other two Saiyans under him—his subjects.  I couldn't teach him that.  He had to learn that for himself.  I knew, after a while, he wouldn't even remember how I used to be.  Raditz would know, but that was not a problem.  Raditz also had to help raise the prince.

Other warriors helped me with my façade.  It was already known that Saiyans were as stupid as they were strong.  Not many messed with us, after our little display of strength on the first night, but I grew used to jokes at my expense.  Actually, some of them were pretty funny.  Too bad I had to pretend I didn't understand them.  Of course, Prince Vegeta could continue to be smart without too much retribution.  Intelligence was expected in royalty.  So my little plan worked out beautifully.

Of course, I didn't truly understand what I was giving up that night.  I realize now.  It was worse than giving up my family and my Saiyan pride.  I had to hide my entire personality.  Not Nappa the general, not Nappa the father, and not Nappa the Saiyan.  It was just Nappa now.  I was giving up the thing that distinguished me from everyone else.  I was giving up my intelligence.  I was giving up my self.  In order to survive, I had to die.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Sawnya (I actually did read your Chibi Vegeta one-shot. It was part of my inspiration for my characterization of chibi Vegeta in this fic. It's just so cute. Thanks for putting me on favorites list.), Renee the Rabid Squirrel (Actually, I suck at Duel Monsters. I don't even have my own deck. The only people who play that game around me is my boyfriend and his roommate, and they play more than I do, so my skill level is way below them. I've just stopped playing now.), ladybranwen2012 (another favorites. Yay!), and last, but certainly not least, Taes (Someday I WILL get back to reading your fic. I just keep forgetting. I saw what you meant about chapter two dealing with the mutual loathing of Nappa and Okakra. It was a typo. If you'll notice, I fixed it. Someday I'm going to go back and fix all my typos. I've explained about the character changes in this chapter. I try to stick as much to the dragonball canon as possible. If I divert, it's for a reason. That's goes for grammatical mistakes. I wanted a voice to come through in the fic, and I don't know anyone who speaks solely in complete sentences. Besides, Nappa hasn't had to opportunity to write in many years. His writing skills would understandably go down. Anyway. I appreciate the reviews, and hope you've read beyond chapter two.)  
  
I may not get to update this story until January, so be patient. I'm not going to die over Christmas holidays. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, Blessed Winter Solstice, etc. C'est tout.


	7. A New Life

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Hey! I'm back! I hope y'all had a good Christmas. Mine was great except for being internet-less. I couldn't read or update, so I spent my time writing. Hope you all enjoy.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 7: A New Life**

Alright, here's a joke for you.  How many Saiyans does it take to replace an illumination unit?  Give up?  Three—one to actually do it and two others to remark on how much better they could have done it.

OK, yes, an old joke.  But it still cracks me up.  I don't know.  I guess I'm trying to break up the mood a bit.  'Cause we're getting into some pretty depressing times in my life.  Not that my life has been a pleasure cruise or anything.  It's just that it keeps getting worse, and there's nothing I could do about it.

If I'd had any say about my life, I would have definitely chosen not to be alone—in Frieza's Army.  And especially not under Zarbon's command.  Yes, he'd been watching me—and Vegeta.  He'd already recruited Raditz in his non-elite force, so maybe he just wanted a full set of Saiyans, like we were collectible action figures or something.  Well, we were an asset to him since we were so strong.  I really don't know what his reason for recruiting us was, but his was probably the toughest command.  Besides Frieza, there was none who ranked him, so he had to work to keep that position.  That meant he sent his squadrons on the toughest missions, and expected the greatest efficiency.

One thing that most people don't understand is that Frieza is not a military tactician.  Sure, he is very strong.  He's the strongest being in the known universe.  And I've heard rumors that he's a changeling, so we may only be seeing him at a fraction of his actual power.  Yes, he's fast, he's strong, and he can fight, but he's no military commander.  He's not even the king of the Kold Empire.  His father is.  He's just the younger prince, and may never ascend to the throne.  So what is he then?  Well, besides being things that I won't name since I don't know the age of the reader, he's a business man.  Now, he could sell just about anything.  He's got the business and financial sense to dominate any market.  But what market is truly worthy of the prince of the Kold Empire—the strongest being in the known universe?  Nothing but planets would suffice.  Mass depopulation and colonization.  The universe became his very own board game, and he could move or get rid of anyone at will.  To run it, all he needed was a huge amount of soldiers and true military commanders to command those soldiers.  They took care of the actual conquering so he could get to the fun of selling.  That's what Zarbon and Dodoria, and plenty of other commanders, were for.

You know, there was something strange about Frieza's Army.  While I was playing the fool, I got very good at listening.  It seemed everyone I met or saw was the last of their kind.  Even the commanders.  I once met someone who looked a lot like Dodoria, and turned out to be the same species.  That's when I learned that Dodoria had been royalty.  In fact, Zarbon and a lot of the other commanders had royal blood.  This started to get me worried, so I went into full detective mode.

Not that I had much time to research.  I was in deep training.  It wasn't only strength training too.  There were new protocols—new ways of doing things.  It had been a long while since I hadn't commanded a mission.  I had to learn how to take orders all over again.  I had to learn to work with people I didn't know and didn't care to know.  One slip-up and I was in for it with Frieza, who kept tabs on all the newest soldiers; Zarbon, my commander; the sergeant of my squadron, whose name is unpronounceable in Common; and all the others soldiers.  Suffice it to say, there were no slip-ups.

But I was military.  I could easily adapt.  I'd grown up in this type of atmosphere.  In some sick way, it was like home.  Almost comforting to me.  This was why Raditz had experienced little trouble in adapting to life in Frieza's Army.  He'd grown up military as well.  He was even better at adapting than I was, because he'd never had any power or command.  As soon as he came to cope with the extra abuse, paranoia, and competitiveness, the boy fit right in.  I just wish I could say the same for Prince Vegeta.

Think about it for a minute.  His life had taken a complete 180 turn.  He went straight from everything to nothing.  Although he learned to cope, he never could lose the attitude.  For every time he was struck for insubordination, his defiance only worsened.  The only thing that kept him from being killed was that he was so darn cute.  Most of those warriors had never seen a boy younger than ten—the usual age requirement for enlistment—without the child being a purge victim.  And the boy was cute, no doubt about that.  His childish voice and stature made his grandiose and defiant speeches ridiculous.  I'm not sure if Prince Vegeta has ever realized what he was only kept alive because he provided good comic relief.  If he does realize, or even remember, he would never mention it.  The shame would be too great.

So Raditz and I adapted better to the fighting part of our training, but there was one aspect of our training in which Vegeta far surpassed us.  Technology.  There's an old saying – You can't teach an old slave new tricks.  Now, I hate the connotations when relating the saying to me, but it does relate.  Sure, I'd grown up with technology, but this was completely different.  Seems that Bardock had changed every machine's design when introducing it to the Saiyan Empire.  Thus, everything was different—scouters, ships… even light panels.  And you can forget about the computers.  I had the hardest time learning those devices, while Prince Vegeta took to it like a fish to water.  We were all required to be licensed to pilot spacepods, and Prince Vegeta got his license before I did.  I did well in theory, but when I would have to react fast in the simulated flights and revert to my old reflexes, it would always end in disaster.  I finally retrained my reflexes, but it took a while.

When our initial training was complete, getting a pilot's license didn't seem so important, since we never got to use it.  Instead, Prince Vegeta and I boarded Zarbon's personal ship with the rest of our squadron and the non-elite squadron that Raditz was in.  We were going on a planet-purging tour.

I guess I should record the other men in my squadron, since I remained in that squadron for ten years.  Elite squadrons were very small.  Enough power was concentrated in a few individuals, and those with enough power to reach elite were few enough.  Consequently, there were four other soldiers, as well as the sergeant.  The sergeant—I already told you his name was not pronounceable.  He was an insect type being whose multi-faceted eyes missed absolutely nothing – sort of like an overgrown fly.  He was as hard and ruthless as they come.  It was strange that he wasn't a full commander—he had all the qualities.  Actually, he was one of my biggest initial problems.  Took me the longest time to understand his accent.  It was distorted by a low drone that truly grated on my nerves.  I couldn't understand his orders.  Though, when I think back on it, his punishments should have been a lot rougher for those times I misunderstood an order.  I'm beginning to realize he was pretty understanding for what he was.  He was a bit more tolerant of us than other sergeants, especially for Prince Vegeta.

Let's see, what were the others' names again?  I am NOT gifted with names.  Getting too old.  Oh, yes, it's coming back.  The soldiers' names were Tolin, Xientlap, Kriei, and Insics.  Tolin was saiyanoid, with deep red hair that laid flat, a tall well-built stature, and extremely pale skin.  He was about my age, and could cope with anything.  He was a bit weaker than I was, but no one messed with him because he was so darn likeable.  He could charm just about anyone.  In fact, I heard the joke about the three Saiyans from him.  I would have made friends with him if he didn't make it so easy to trust him.  He was too likeable.  I had to wonder if he spied on his fellow warriors for Frieza.  Therefore, most of the squadron could joke around with him, but only that.

Xientlap is the person I mentioned earlier—the one of the same species as Dodoria.  Instead of bright pink he was a deeper purple, and far less tubby.  He was probably the best friend I've ever had, even including Bardock.  He was reserved, but extremely smart.  Since our power levels pretty much matched, we would usually spar with each other.  I don't know if he was extremely perceptive, or slightly telepathic, but he saw right through my façade of stupidity.  Of course, when I explained my reasons, he understood, and even helped me.  One night, before we left on our planet-purging tour, we both got extremely drunk, and ended up telling each other our life stories.  The man had been, of all things, a priest.  Or maybe it was a monk.  I'm not sure when the difference is, not being a religious man myself, as you may well have guessed by now.  He had been the greatest and most revered scholar on his planet, and had even tutored young prince Dodoria in religious studies.  That is, until his planet was destroyed.  Frieza thought it an extremely good joke to enlist a holy man in his army.  By the time I met him, Xientlap had murdered millions.  He went between believing that he would be punished forever in the afterlife to complete atheism.  I guess he truly did lose more than I.  I only lost a family, position, and planet.  He lost a god.

Well, enough about Xientlap.  I may talk more about him later.  Where was I?  Oh, yes.  Kriei.  Kriei—well—I heard several rumors about him.  I do have to say he was a bit disturbing.  He was rail-thin with stick-like arms and legs.  Strangely enough, he was semi-transparent.  He was like a ghost, or a shadow, and could blend into the background extremely well.  Not only that, he was mute.  Silent as—well—a shadow.  Or maybe he just didn't talk.  I don't know.  But I was certainly glad to be more powerful than him.  The most plausible rumor around was that he was a serial killer BEFORE being enlisted, with unusual ways of killing people.  If even half of the stories about his victims were true… I just shudder thinking about them.  And I wouldn't have put it past him.  We could tell his moods by his color changes, and he was definitely happiest when killing people.

I guess the last one is Insics.  The boy was the equivalent to fifteen years old with perfectly white skin and no hair.  The boy was fully organic, but looked and acted like a machine.  Each movement was measured and calculated, with no fidgeting prevalent in most young ones.  He spoke in a flat monotone.  I heard that his native language was actually a complex form of binary, except using four numbers instead of two.  Would that make quandary?  Anyway, Insics was the most precise warrior, as well as the best with technology.  His only problem laid in his lack of creativity (and personality, if you ask me).  He was exactly like a machine, with absolutely no sense of free will.  I guess that made him the perfect soldier, but it really creeped me out.

So this was the group I spent practically ever day with for about ten years.  A bug-man, a charmer, a priest, a homicidal maniac, an organic machine, and a prince.  We weren't the strongest elites, but we turned into the most effective team in Frieza's Army.  We had to.  We worked under Zarbon.

The planet-purging tour was certainly an experience.  It lasted a full year of just going from planet to planet.  We were cooped up on the ship for weeks at a time, with absolutely nothing to do.  The ship had limited space.  It housed thirty-five—that counts Zarbon, the seven elite soldiers, twenty non-elite soldiers and their sergeant, and the seven technicians who ran the ship.  And this wasn't a cruise ship.  It was a top-of-the-line warship, having been built for speed and maneuverability as well as power.  It also had to carry quite a bit of plunder from various planets and supplies for the trip.  That meant most of the room was taken up by the engine, the computer, and large cargo holds.  No room for gyms or recreational facilities.  Besides, any training would probably damage the ship.

I know I'm going a lot into descriptions, but I spent years of my life on that ship.  I still remember everything about it.  There was the bridge at the front of the ship, which connected to the engine room.  Three bedrooms for the crew and Zarbon's office connected directly to the bridge.  The technicians were only allowed to the back of the ship for maintenance.  In the back of the ship there were cargo holds.  One hold had been refitted to hold all the non-elites.  Although, sometimes the non-elites would find themselves sleeping among boxes.

At the very back of the ship was Zarbon's bedroom.  It was large and lavish, at least for a room on a ship.  He was rarely in there, though.  He spent most of his time in his office, planning attacks, keeping up with supplies, sending endless reports to Frieza… I almost sympathized with him.  Merely a year before, I had been in his place, doing the exact same thing.  I remembered falling asleep at my desk, only to awaken to see my workload doubled the next morning.  And that was just the paperwork.

Let's see, the only thing left is the elite quarters.  They were rooms about like those at the base, only there was just room for four of them, so we had to share two to a room.  The sergeant got a room to himself, of course.  I really wanted to room with Prince Vegeta—I still felt I needed to protect him—but I guess Zarbon wanted to put a little distance between us.  Or maybe it was just a little reminder that we don't always get our own way, and that he had complete control over us.  It wasn't so bad, though.  I ended up rooming with Xientlap.  Maybe he was just going with age, because he put the two youngest—Prince Vegeta and Insics—together.  That left Tolin and Kriei in a room together.  Needless to say, Tolin didn't get much sleep on planet-purging tours.

Our first stop was a planet called—oh, what was it?—Mortechat or something like that.  It was a full purge.  You see, there were different types of missions, all color coded.  On a green mission, we just had to bully the leaders a bit—usually by destroying one or two cities.  We'd stack the bodies outside the leader's house or something cheery like that.  A blue mission was a slaving mission.  We'd rendezvous with a slave barge on the way to a planet, kill the most troublesome, and capture the rest.  Purple missions were for plundering.  Just as on the blue missions, we'd kill the most resistant, take the goods, and leave the rest alive.  But Mortechat was a red mission—purge.  Not only was it a red mission, but it was a red mission type two.  Type one is a population thinning type thing.  We'd kill a third of the population, or maybe just ones of a certain race, creed, gender, social rank…  Didn't really matter why.  We just did as we were told.  But type two was a full purge.  Everyone died.

I had rarely killed so many people at once, and never without a reason.  Zarbon gave the elite squadron this job, while the non-elites would serve as the clean-up crew.  Being the newest soldiers, sergeant gave Prince Vegeta and I most of the workload.  I remember something shut down within me, and I fell back on my training and instincts to carry me through.  I've never had any qualms about killing, but this seemed—wrong.  I would eventually get used to it, but I remember that sick feeling I had at that first purge.  It was like I was crossing the final line—the point of no return.

I was also strangely aware of everyone else's behavior.  Tolin was for once serious, concentrating on the job.  He would occasionally crack a joke, but never in sergeant's hearing.  I think he knew sergeant didn't really like him, and just didn't want sergeant to find fault in his fighting.  Kriei was as happy as we ever saw him while killing people.  Sergeant was all business, just like always.  So was Insics—disintegrating a person just as mechanically as keying a command into a computer.  I wasn't sure what to expect from Xientlap.  I just couldn't picture him killing people.  I could have told you he'd been a religious figure before he'd told me.  I mean, I knew he killed people, but it was just weird to thing about.  I think he coped with it as I did—just kind of shut down.  There was cold indifference in his eyes as he cut short all those lives.  He didn't even think about it too much.  Neither did I.  Kept us sane.

I mostly worried about Prince Vegeta that day.  And rightfully so.  I could tell he was not taking it well.  Sure, he'd killed people before, but it was like me—never so many and always for a reason.  Also, he'd killed much fewer people than I had, and he'd always been supervised by his father.  Now he was more on his own, he didn't know why he was killing, he couldn't choose not to, and he was killing more people in one hour than he had killed in his entire life.  Talk about your childhood trauma.  And he didn't seem to shut down like Xientlap and I.  He saw every victim, hear every scream, felt the alien blood on his hands… and he was only a child!  Five, almost six years old.  It was insane.

He did shut down later.  I remember that.  He remembered all my warnings about showing emotion—how his only objective now was to stay alive to kill Frieza.  No matter how horrible he felt, he always remembered that.

For a full year we did this.  For weeks, we traveled between planets, usually spending the time telling stories or playing cards.  Most nights we'd get permission to mix with the non-elites.  I really enjoyed those nights.  The non-elites didn't have as much pressure put on them, so they were far more social.  On those nights I could talk with Raditz—usually I never even saw him.  I guess I grew an affinity for the boy.  Since Bardock had cared for my son, I felt I needed to care for his son.

Since telling stories was kind of risky—anything could be interpreted as having anti-Frieza content—we played cards.  Fizzbin mostly, but occasionally one of us would teach the others a game from our planet.  Everyone joined in the games—even Kriei.  We'd play long into the night, and hold championships.  No need to write down scores.  Insics kept up with all of them perfectly.  In fact, since no one wanted to play against a boy who was practically a computer, he became the scorekeeper and referee of all card games.  That way no score cards could be tampered with.  Not that we played for anything important, other than bragging rights.  We couldn't play for money.  Frieza's soldiers, except of course the commanders, don't get paid.  We really have no need for money.  Everything we needed was furnished.  That saved Frieza money in the end.  Not that warriors didn't get money through less than legitimate means, but it was risky.  Really not worth the risk.  I mean, what could you buy?  Anything you bought would instantly incriminate you.  Plus, without money, you didn't have to worry if you lost at cards.

Well, before we knew it, we were back at the base.  I was actually glad to see the place.  We each received a commendation for a year's work, and then told that we wouldn't go on any more missions for a year.  That's how it works.  We work for a year, and then train for a year, alternating back and forth.  Good thing too.  We were all tired, stir-crazy, malnourished…  I really worried about Prince Vegeta's health.  The rations on ship had been small for normal people, but they were horrifyingly inadequate for Saiyans.  I could cope well enough, but Prince Vegeta was a growing boy.  I'd never seen a malnourished Saiyan, but I was afraid I was going to.

Just for the record, I was right.  Prince Vegeta's growth was severely stunted.  He should have been maybe half an inch shorter than I am, like his father, but he's extremely short now.  I'm not sure if he'll ever grow any taller.  I mean, he's about thirty now.  He's been the same height for the past fifteen years.  Yet another reason Frieza needs to die.

Life on the base went to how I remember it, except a bit more relaxed.  We trained on our own and with our squadron, but we still had time to spare.  That's when I decided to get on with my research about the commanders.  But right now, I'm sick of writing.  These memories have made me sick.  I can't bear any more for now.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Lauryn S. (I'm not sure when I'll stop this fic. Since this is all writing before he lands on Earth, I'll probably go to third-person narration as an epilogue for after Nappa's death.), manga, Sawnya (aww. Now it's my turn to be deeply touched.), Renee the Rabid Squirrel (I'm with ya on the chocolate!), aqua-illusion (thanks), Hellstorm brother of StormDeman (umm, thanks . . . I guess. Everyone's entitled to their opinions. And everyone was put through a lot of bull, not just Baen. I mean, think of poor Nappa. And Prince Vegeta. And Okakra. I'm just trying to show the horrors Frieza brought to the Saiyan race. Oh, well.), and Blue Eyes White Hydra77415 (umm, did you not READ the story? I thought I clearly stated Nappa's reasons. He was using stupidity as a defense mechanism and as a way to get Prince Vegeta to take the leadership position. And, yes, Frieza is that much of a sadist. Did you not watch him slowly beat Vegeta to death? And cavalierly kill so many? I would definitely say he is that much of a sadist. This is just my interpretation of the characters. Also, I wanted to write Nappa a bit smarter and remain faithful to the series. I had to come up with an explanation. Oh, well. I appreciate the criticism.) C'est tout.


	8. Tournament

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: I burnt the midnight oil putting this one out. I personally think it's good, but I'll let you decide. Enjoy.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 8: Tournament**

Xientlap once told me this story from his planet.  It was supposed to be some kind of moralistic parable, but his code of ethics must have been vastly different from mine, because I don't get it.  Seemed to be important to him though.  You wanna hear it?  Well, if you don't, then you should stop reading.  What kind of person are you, anyway?  Not even wanting to humor a dead man.

I must be getting severely stir-crazy.  I'm not usually like this.  All right, the story.  A man walks into a bar—no, that's not it.  Ok, a man was given one wish in all the universe by a dream fairy.  The man waited a day to decide and chose to have his greatest enemy killed.  The man was instantly struck dead, for such a wish made himself his greatest enemy.

Now, don't misunderstand me.  I have the greatest respect for Xientlap.  He was a great warrior, a good comrade, a man of character, which was hard to come by, but what type of story is that?  First of all, wouldn't a dream fairy give you good dreams or make your dreams real?  Why does it have the appellation "dream" anyway?  Also, the story didn't tell what the man did to earn the wish.  Usually such opportunities don't fall into one's lap by happenstance.  The story would have been more interesting, less didactic, and would have told more about the man's character.  We know nothing about this man, not even his name.  All we know is that he's indecisive.  That was his true mistake.  He took too long in making the decision.  Usually, if you mull over a decision, your judgment is less certain and more open to bad influence.  You should always make a decision quickly, and then take as much time as you can on planning.  It's more how you do something and how effective you are than what you actually do.  Not that this man was worrying about planning.  With planning, he could have realized long ago that his enemy must die, and then killed him himself.  That would have eliminated the uncertainty of wishing.  I mean, he placed his faith in a stupid fairy, which killed him.  What kind of fairy is this?  Did it really have the right to judge the wishes made?  The fairy turned it into this whole moral pacifist lesson by killing the man.  Hypocrisy and stupidity.  Should a pacifist fairy be killing people?  And how are the dead supposed to learn these lessons?  Wouldn't killing the man make the fairy the man's greatest enemy?  No wonder Frieza destroyed their planet.

I actually expressed some of these thought to Xientlap, but he just nodded and smiled in that infuriatingly condescending manner of the morally superior.  Well, he was the last person to be preaching pacifism and he knew it.  So I humored him occasionally when he felt the urge to tell such stories.  He was just trying to grasp for a happier past, and I understood that.  But that didn't mean I agreed with him on all counts.

Ok, now that I've ranted enough I'll talk about what's really important, at least for this document.  Me.  My life.  Specifically, the ten years I spent in one of Zarbon's elite squadrons.  I've already spoken of five years—every other year when we went on a purging tour.  They were all the same.  We got older, more experienced, but they were all the same.  Same ship, same company, same card tournaments, same missions—are you getting the picture?  Those years weren't very interesting.  It was the off-years that were interesting.  Mostly because Frieza had to keep us occupied.  On that one planet there were hundreds of warriors with nothing to do but fight each other and complain, albeit carefully, about their own crummy existences.  If you don't do something with all those warriors, you're just asking for a revolution.  While I doubt any number of us could have deposed him, any executed traitor is just a loss of saiyan capital.  Frieza could only carry the "rule by fear" thing so far.  So, there was the tournament.

The tournament was different from other gladiatorial games commonly practiced because death is uncommon.  Everyone has a chance to compete, so if every match ended in death, Frieza would have to replenish his supply of warriors every year.  Killing an opponent isn't forbidden, but it is severely frowned upon and leaves the killer open to be killed.  However, this is the only civilized aspect of the tournament.  Anything goes—cheating, psychic attacks, crowd participation—whatever you can get away with.  You just have to remember that if the rules don't apply to you, then that's how you'll be treated—without any protection given by the rules.  The end result is orderly, controlled chaos.  It's fascinating, really.  We're given the illusion of freedom, when actually our violent tendencies are being channeled and controlled.  I probably couldn't come up with a better system myself.

There were two tournaments held at the end of each year—one for the elite and one for the non-elite.  Most of the year was taken up in training.  Training was usually done within your own squadron.  Sometimes the commander would oversee and train a particular squadron personally.  Well, guess which squadron Zarbon picked.  Yup, it was us.  The reports on our efficiency and strength had gained popularity, and Zarbon had a reputation to keep up.  He had not had a champion in quite some time, and I guess he wanted one of us to win.  I didn't know how he had come up with the idea that one of us would win.  The strongest among us was myself, Prince Vegeta, and Xientlap, and we certainly couldn't contend with, for example, the Ginyu Force (at least, that's what I thought at the time).  Our strength laid in our unusual ability to work as a team.  I could have told him this, but then I would have crossed the line into real stupidity.  You just don't question Zarbon.  So, we trained hard, often having to spend an hour in the rejuvenation tank at the end of the day.  Zarbon obsessively took power readings of us.  Since Vegeta, Xientlap, and I showed the most progress, he concentrated on us, keeping us behind for a private training even after dismissing the others.

Even though the training was hard, it was extremely fun.  I had so long been the strongest of the Saiyans that I had almost forgotten the feel of competition—the thrill of a challenge.  For once I felt I was working for myself—that I had regained a bit of control over my own fate.  I could control how hard I trained and how strong I got.  I could control how good a showing I made at the tournament.  I was a warrior, instead of just a mindless killing machine.  Prince Vegeta felt better too.  During the purge mission he had sunk into a kind of melancholy.  There's nothing worse than a depressed five-year-old.  But now that we were planet-side, instead of being cooped up in a ship or forced to go on missions we didn't even care about, he began to come alive again.  He could get plenty of food – a relief to us both – and he could finally train.  In fact, eating and training was all he did.  Gone were the practical jokes and carefree times.  Vegeta realized he had the weight of a dead people on his shoulders.  I hated for that to happen, but it had to be done.

Training didn't take up all my time, though.  I had not forgotten any curiosity of the people in Frieza's army.  I was finally able to research to my heart's content.  It wasn't easy though.  It took me years of just listening and reasoning to put two and two together.  I couldn't be obvious about it and show my intelligence.  And it seems there are certain secrets that Frieza wanted to keep quiet.

My one first breakthrough was when my squadron was taking a meal together during a training break.  Zarbon had left for one reason or another, so we had a bit of a chance to talk freely.  We began relating the past and speaking of our home planets.  Each planet had been destroyed.  Let me repeat that.  Each.  Planet.  Had.  Been.  Destroyed.  When I mention this, everyone looked up in surprise.  They'd never truly though about it.  Of course, I had to cover myself.  I wasn't supposed to notice such things.  But I could listen.  Come to find out, everyone was the last of their race.  I don't mean in my squadron.  I mean in the entire army.  Can you comprehend that?  We're talking about hundreds of races here.  And every commander had been royalty.

Actually, that makes sense when you take into account that Frieza was royalty.  I mean, who else could he entrust with his empire but other princes?  In this realization, I finally realized exactly why Frieza wanted Prince Vegeta.  As soon as Vegeta got old enough, Frieza would have him trained to be a commander.  My hatred of Frieza shot up to unimaginable heights.  Frieza was going to make the boy loyal to him—turn him into his pet.  That I could not allow.  I was Vegeta's trainer, not that genderless lizard freak.  Vegeta was to be a great warrior and avenge our people.  He was to kill Frieza.  He couldn't just become loyal to him.  So I swore to always be with Vegeta, and remind him of his sacred duty—to kill Frieza.

I spent most of my time with Prince Vegeta anyway.  When we weren't training with our squadron, or with Zarbon, we trained alone.  Raditz would join us at those times.  He couldn't measure up to us or anything, but he was really good nonetheless.  Reminded me of his father.  I could tell he would be a close contender for the non-elite championship.  He had enough drive and ambition to stare down an elite by sheer willpower.  It was amazing, really.  I saw Raditz fight this one non-elite.  The battle was over so fast it barely registered on the scouters.  And the person Raditz beat was supposed to be stronger than him.

That's the problem with the universe these days.  No one respects us Saiyans.  Everyone underestimates us.  They think the power level we'll have at one point in our life is the one we'll keep.  I suppose it's an advantage, but it's a little disheartening and just plain annoying when we're called weak monkeys.  I mean, sure, other people can best us once, but can they best us again when we've recovered?  That is rarely the case.  But do our victories get publicized?  No.  Only our failures.  That's why no one takes us seriously and the whole bloody cycle starts all over again.

This was how it was for the tournament.  Though Zarbon had confidence in us, everyone else thought our involvement was a joke.  We WERE the newbies after all.  And one of us was a cute little six-year-old.  What could we do against older, stronger, and more experienced warriors?  Beat 'em up, that's what we could do.  But they didn't believe how powerful we could get.  All I can say is, we showed them.

One day, out of the blue, while we were walking in to training, the preliminaries started.  Frieza's voice came over the intercom, saying that the hallways were now battle zones and that we had better get to the stadium in time.  Not only did we have to fight off other warriors, but we had to fight off huge robots and monsters that came out of the walls.  Then we had to avoid tripping over fallen warriors and getting trampled.  It was… the most fun I've ever had.  It was like being a kid again, with no need for facades or diplomacy.  I could really cut loose and have some fun.  And Prince Vegeta… you should have seen him.  He was practically bouncing off the walls, knocking warriors left and right.  He even knocked Tolin down.  First time I've ever seen that man curse.  I merely flew over the robots and monsters, too fast for them to catch, Prince Vegeta and Xientlap right at my heels.  Before we knew it, we were at the stadium.

I hadn't even realized how close it was to the tournament, so intent was I on my training and listening.  But it was time.  For the next few days we wouldn't even leave the stadium grounds.  We were either on the floor doing battle or up in the contestant wings waiting our turn.  Not even the spectators would leave.  Even after the fights ended for the day, they would spend the night eating, drinking, rehashing what they did wrong in the hallway or how they were cheated.  Arguing over who would win the tournament as well.  I'm telling you, Frieza is a genius.  He controlled us by giving us exactly what we wanted—action.  And freedom, if only a semblance of it.  I mean, we ate it up with a spoon.  By keeping us violent, he kept us pacified.

The first two days were spent on the non-elites.  Raditz, of course, was one of them.  I'm still surprised people have kept the same opinion of Saiyans after that showing.  It was remarkable.  Out of a contest of twenty contestants, he won.  I'm serious.  The final battle took most of the second day and Raditz's opponent was ten years older and had fifteen years' seniority over Raditz.  I can't remember the guy's name, but I can remember the look on his face when he knew Raditz had beaten him.  It was priceless.  Raditz received a royal treatment after that.  Even Zarbon seemed happy.

Oh, yeah.  Zarbon.  I at first though he was waiting in the elite competitor wings with us, but that really didn't make any sense.  His rightful place was beside Frieza.  Well, guess what.  Zarbon entered the elite competition.  That's right, Zarbon.  It wasn't against the rules or anything for a commander to join in the elite tournament.  It's just unheard of.  It's not like a commander has to prove his strength.  They knew they could win.  And why did Zarbon spend so much time training us if he was just going to beat us anyway?  Maybe that was the point.  Just trying to teach us our place again—keep us from getting too cocky.

There were eight contestants in all for the elite tournament—five from our squadron.  Of course I've already told of Prince Vegeta, Xientlap, Zarbon, and myself.  Kriei also made it, and I guess Tolin was able to recover from his spill in the hallway quickly, because he was right there with us.  Apparently Zarbon's faith in our squadron was well-founded.  This type of representation from any squadron was unheard of.  The other two contestants were Kewie—one of Dodoria's elite—and Guldo—a green-skinned four-eyed short member of the Ginyu force.  The other members of the Ginyu force must not have even bothered to participate, or else they would have dominated the tournament.  I guess they didn't have anything to prove.

On the third day of the tournament, when we were still all elated about Raditz's victory, the first elite match up was between myself and Kriei.  I could tell I was rather the favorite of that match up.  Let's just say no one liked Kriei.  The rumors were enough to put Kriei on the list of "people even the toughest avoid."  I could tell Tolin wanted a shot at him, to get back at him for all those sleepless nights, but there was no chance for that.  So, everyone, including myself, got supreme satisfaction from my beating Kriei into the ground.  As soon as I won that, the air was practically abuzz with the new Saiyan force.  First Raditz, then me.  And no one could tell what Prince Vegeta would have in store for us.

The second match was between Zarbon and Xientlap.  I really felt sorry for Xientlap.  He really was a strong warrior, but he just wasn't a match for Zarbon.  Xientlap did put up an extremely good fight, and even got in a hit or two before being knocked unconscious.  Though most just laughed at this defeat, I really had respect for him.  Not many could stand up to Zarbon for that long.  I was also rather fatalistic.  I knew I had to face Zarbon next, and I knew I had absolutely no chance of winning.

The next match was a bit harder to call.  It was between Tolin and Kewie.  The two had almost matching power levels, though Tolin had a good ten years on Kewie.  It was more competitive now.  While the other matches were within our squadron, now it was Zarbon versus Dodoria.  The two were constant rivals for Frieza's favor, so the soldiers under each had become rivals as well.  The fight took the rest of the day and had each faction at each others' throats.  There was more action at times in the stands than there was on the floor.  But finally, Kewie surpassed Tolin.  They both had to be carried to the medic, along with fifty of the spectators.  The night's festivities could begin.

There was no shame on either side.  I had done well enough, and Zarbon's elite force was well-represented.  While Kewie put up an excellent fight, we all knew that he would lose his next round no matter what happened.  For the next match was between Guldo and Prince Vegeta.  Now that was a match to talk about.  While Guldo was a Ginyu, he was decidedly the weakest of the five.  His main reserve was psychic attacks, and it's known that Saiyans have a slight immunity to such assaults.  The victories of myself and Raditz were also taken into account, it being reputed that Prince Vegeta was stronger than any of us.  The rivalries reached a fever pitch.  Dodoria's men automatically took the side of the Ginyu, while Zarbon's men stuck faithfully to the six-year-old Prince.  I'm sure the medics were glad when morning came.  They probably kept those rejuvenation tanks full all night.

And finally morning did come, announcing the time of the fourth match: Guldo versus Prince Vegeta.  All the spectators had recuperated, and even the beaten contestants were allowed back in the contestants' wing.  I had an animated talk with Xientlap and Tolin about our own matches, while Kriei's coloring told me he didn't like me one bit.  I knew I'd have to watch myself around him.  Such distractions were cut short, however, by the beginning of the fourth match.

You know, it was a sort of funny-looking match up.  Both were short, and one was a child.  It was hard to believe that this would be the most exciting battle yet.  Due to the telepathic powers on both sides, scouter readings were all messed up.  Frankly, I don't remember exactly how the fight went.  It lasted for an hour, and the winner was Vegeta.  Yes, Vegeta.  Apparently he was more immune to the psychic attacks than anyone had known.  Not only that, Guldo was too cocky.  He was a member of Ginyu, while Vegeta was just a child.  Overconfidence is always what gets you—a lesson I've been trying to teach Vegeta and Raditz since the beginning.

I didn't have long to celebrate Vegeta's amazing victory, though.  It was my turn, and I had to face Zarbon.  I remember how psyched I was—how much I wanted to win and how much I knew I couldn't.  Zarbon simply stared at me impassively with a look somewhere between boredom and contempt, an expression he must have picked up from Frieza.  He drug out the fight a bit, letting me charge and show off my skills under adversity a bit.  Or maybe he was just teaching me a lesson again.  Needless to say, he beat me.  He broke my back, the worst sensation I've ever felt, so I had to be carried off in a stretcher.  My defeat was not as ridiculed, however.  I had already shown myself to be a worthy opponent, if not a target.  I would have to watch myself from then on.

I didn't see the next fight between Kewie and Prince Vegeta.  I got back just in time to see the end.  From what I heard, it was a fight to remember.  I didn't know it, but Vegeta and Kewie had become particular rivals.  I don't know how it started—maybe they didn't either—but they truly hated each other.  Maybe it was Kewie's utter contempt for royalty.  I don't know.  But Kewie had to be carried away in a stretcher, and Vegeta was allowed a couple of hours to rest.

There were a few exhibition matches, but no one really paid all that much attention to them.  Most were excitedly talking about this particular tournament, and Saiyans momentarily had the spotlight.  No one would have guessed that the insubordinate six-year-old Saiyan Prince would have gotten out of the hallway, much less advance to the finals.  No one had any delusions that Vegeta would win.  Zarbon was infinitely too strong for him.  Not even cheating could help him—which was another topic of discussion.  This was the first tournament that the contestants had not cheated once, at least not in obvious ways.  And there were no apparent signs of steroid use.  It was the cleanest tournament, at least on the floor, in anyone's memories.

I really wish Vegeta had had more time to rest, or could have spent some time in the rejuvenation tank, but of course it wouldn't have made a difference.  He couldn't win.  You couldn't tell that form looking at him, though.  I'd never seen such determination—in him as well as anyone else.  He wanted so badly to win—for revenge, to prove his worth—I don't know the reasons.  I think he even scared Zarbon a little.  Zarbon was used to the cute little kid that got out of line a bit but could generally be controlled.  That day we got a glimpse of the warrior Vegeta was destined to become, one who challenges authority and takes it for himself.  One who won't give up no matter what the odds.  We all got a glimpse of the true Saiyan Prince.  I'll bet even Frieza got nervous.

The fight didn't end quickly.  It took all day, both of them using strength and tactics as well as mind games.  It was the first time I'd ever seen Vegeta use the Gallic Gun.  Apparently he'd seen someone, maybe ever Zarbon judging form the style of it, use a major ki blast and adapted it for his own use.  Vegeta had only been taught small ki blasts and scatter shots, very useful in planet purges and necessary with opponents weaker than him.  Only a few people knew this to appreciate Vegeta's skill, including Zarbon and Frieza.  I was proud, yet anxious for the boy.  This would leave him open to more than competition from other warriors.

Much as I would like to say that Vegeta won, he didn't.  After a supremely entertaining battle—mostly from Zarbon's surprise at Vegeta's talent and skill—Vegeta was knocked out.  He won many things that day, though.  Respect, for one thing.  He wasn't considered a child anymore.  He'd proven his worth by beating much older opponents.  He also earned something he hadn't bargained for—Frieza's favor.  He showed no reaction to any of this, although I could tell he was a bit shaken from the attention he received from Frieza.  Frieza would watch him train, talk to him, that sort of thing.  I was actually glad when we packed up for our next planet-purging tour.  I was downright scared for the boy—the boy who I'd watched over like a father over his son.  I was afraid he'd be taken away from me, claimed by that monster.  I was afraid he would change Vegeta into another monster, one who feels nothing for anyone.  One I couldn't even recognize.  A monster.

I hate being right.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Cka3ka, aqua-illusion, Lil Shady (everyone, read his "Of Two Worlds" if you want a really good pre-DBZ Vegeta fic. It's awesome.), and Renee the Rabid Squirrel (hmm, I never really paid all that much attention to King Vegeta's height. He seemed pretty tall to me. I'll have to go back and watch his scenes more closely.)  
  
If anyone finds some of this story a bit, shall we say, familiar, just think about the first tournament, or Budoukai, in Dragonball. Draw your own conclusions. C'est tout.


	9. Stress

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Alright, this chapter is rather serious. It may even push the rating. I tried to do a few different styles of writing. Let me know how I did, please.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 9: Stress**

Now, where did I leave off last?  I probably have to ask that question too much.  It's because I wait so long in between writing sessions.  It takes me so long to work up the nerve to delve in my memory again.  I've never been the type to dwell on the past.  No one ever got stronger by dwelling on the past.  In fact, it weakens you.  Makes you regret things.  You can't control the past, but it can control you.  For people remember the past through emotion, and most emotions make you vulnerable.  They can get you killed.  They can make you do rash, stupid things that you'll regret for the remainder of your life.  Emotions change things, mostly for the worse.

Anyway.  I can't keep waiting so long between writing sessions.  We're getting closer to Earth.  My time is drawing nearer, and I want to get this done before I die.  It would be a real shame if I didn't even finish this account.  Of course, now that I think about it, I'm not sure where I'm going to leave it.  Can't take it with me.  Can't leave it on the pod, since it'll probably get destroyed when Vegeta destroys the planet.  In fact, I can't leave it anywhere.  I really am a fool to write this.  The record of my life will only get destroyed with my actual life.

But I'll keep writing it anyway.  I'm beginning to realize the true purpose of the sarka.  It's not to leave a record for posterity.  Those sarkas were rarely read by anyone not in the elite school.  No, most Saiyans couldn't care less about their ancestors.  This tradition isn't about instructing and edifying my long-dead posterity.  It's about me.  This is a mental journey, the closest thing a Saiyan has to a religion.  It's a reviewing of life for a people who don't care about the past.  It's a ritualized way to prepare for death.  I don't understand how so many others didn't get it, but I get it now.  And even though it will never be read by anyone else, I will write it.  I need to write it.  Though, if I do find a way to save my sarka from being destroyed, I won't hesitate to take it.

Well, enough of that.  I suppose I need to get on with my life and not stall.  I haven't really consciously thought about the story I will tell you in a long time, so just bear with me.  I believe I've already told you about the first two years enlisted in Frieza's army.  Well, not much changed in the following years.  We'd purge planets for a year, then go back and train for the tournament.  I think I made it to the finals once more.  I could have made it every time, or at least I'm pretty sure I could, but I didn't want to draw too much attention to myself.  One of the most important lessons in the army is never set yourself up to be a target.  I couldn't be the best anymore and expect nothing but good.  So I laid low for a while, downplaying my own strength and talents.  I know Xientlap knew what I was doing, and I'm pretty sure Zarbon knew.  I've come to accept that Zarbon kept up with his warriors very closely.  It's part of the paranoia.  Zarbon not only got his high position from his royal blood and commander training, but his loyalty to Frieza.  In a place where not even Frieza is immune to the fear, loyal soldiers are more valuable than strong warriors.  Zarbon did not want to lose the status of being Frieza's most loyal follower, so he made sure all of his soldiers were at least superficially loyal.  Of course, that meant that we were kept busy and got no privacy.  And it was foolish.  Only a fool believes that constant surveillance is the key to suppressing military insurrection.  You're just asking for a mutiny if you do that.  It causes too much stress, and soldiers need to be stress-free in order to carry out the non-thinking efficiency that is their jobs.  Soldiers resent not being trusted, or not being given the smallest amount of privacy.  The combination of fear, stress, and resentment is lethal.

Well, I certainly got of on a tangent.  Back on topic, then.  The remaining years of when I was in the elite squadron.  I was in the squadron a total of ten years.  I went on five purge tours and trained for five tournaments with my squadron.  I kept my sanity by training and practically raising Prince Vegeta and Raditz.  Mostly Prince Vegeta, though, I couldn't just let Frieza and Zarbon raise the boy.  They may have been able to teach him to fight better than I ever could, and, if they were so inclined, they could have taught him to be a prince, but they couldn't teach him Saiyan pride.  And they definitely couldn't teach him to avenge this people and his father.  It was up to me to teach him all that, and I wasn't about to let Frieza mold the prince into an image of himself.  I figure that Frieza had high hopes for Vegeta – a commander, maybe even an heir.  I had to stop that from happening.  I couldn't bear to see Vegeta take that much joy from killing—to say those horrible things.  Alright, I know I'm the last person to talk against killing people, but I find no joy in it.  It's not how I get my kicks.  And I didn't want Vegeta becoming like that.  I tried.  I tried so hard.    I was constantly with him.  He may not have always followed my instructions, but he listened.  I told him of the glory of our people and his duty as a prince.  I told him of the greatness of his father and his mother.  I related the exploits of his ancestors.  And I told him of Super Saiyan.

Yes, Super Saiyan.  I still believe it is a myth, but I used it to give Prince Vegeta a hope and a goal.  Even if he can't transform, he can still get ridiculously strong.  And he would keep on getting stronger.  Although, maybe I wouldn't have used the Super Saiyan goal so liberally if I'd have known the effect it had on Vegeta.  For Vegeta believed it.  I guess he needed something to believe.  He even believed the ridiculous tale of the legendary Super Saiyan.  Actually, this was mostly Raditz's fault.  You see, the Legendary Super Saiyan is more of a boogey-man type tale.  "Don't skip training or the Legendary Super Saiyan will get you."  I didn't want to tell Prince Vegeta, since he believed so much in his own ability to go Super Saiyan.  But when Vegeta was eight, Raditz was thirteen – a teenager.  Raditz was going through a sort of rebellious phase, and he got tired of my teaching Vegeta to give him orders.  So, one night, without my knowledge, Raditz told him the tale of the Legendary Super Saiyan, and embellishing it with a few too many details.  The Legendary Super Saiyan was supposed to be invincible and kill all the Saiyans.  He was supposed to be incredibly strong and quite mad.  But the thing that topped it off was the prophesy.  It told of the last prince facing the Legendary Super Saiyan, and the last prince would be no match for him.  I told you Raditz was an idiot.  I beat that boy within an inch of his life when I found out.  For it scared Prince Vegeta to death.  That prophesy may have been far removed from any recent time before, but Vegeta WAS the last prince.  He already had his life threatened daily.  He didn't need more to worry about.  That silly fear continued through the prince's childhood.  I'm not sure if he's forgotten it or not now.  It has been a long time since he's mentioned it.  I guess it was a childhood fear.  Well, he may have forgotten about becoming Super Saiyan.  I swear, he must have mentioned it five times a day.  I never would have pegged Vegeta for being that superstitious, but he was.

I may not have participated in the tournaments, but Vegeta never missed one.  Neither did Raditz, although he didn't win any more in the non-elite.  He would get to the final match, but not win.  I think it was just rotten luck each time.  Actually, Vegeta would do the same thing.  He would get the final match, but wouldn't win.  It really frustrated Vegeta.  He wanted to prove himself the best, but couldn't seem to break out of the second place, no matter how much he tried.  He no longer had to fight Zarbon or anything, but it was always someone.  When he was eight Kewie beat him out.  When he was ten on of the Ginyu beat him.  And at twelve a warrior, whose name I can't remember, defeated Vegeta.  I do remember the champion was found to be a traitor and executed.  However, the title didn't pass to Vegeta.  He would have to earn it the next tournament.

The tension in our squadron that next tournament year was near the breaking point.  We'd been together far longer than most elite squadrons.  We were rather famous for our efficiency and our growing collective strength.  But the pressure was on to keep that reputation.  Zarbon had spent too much time training us as a group to have the squadron split.  He watched us more closely, kept us busy, worried every ever little word we said.  It was enough to drive even Xientlap to swearing.  In fact, once he and Kriei got into a real knock-down drag-out.  I'd never seen Xientlap snap like that.  We'd just been training, having a mock battle with another of Zarbon's elite squadrons, and Kriei let Xientlap get hit when he was supposed to be covering him.  I don't know if it was accidental or intentional, but it sure set Xientlap off.  You should've seen it.  Kriei could only lie on the floor and get the daylights pummeled out of him, while Xientlap was screaming and cursing.  It took me and both sergeants to separate them.  Kriei was sent to the rejuvenation tank and Xientlap was put in a cell for a couple of nights to cool down.  I'll never forget seeing Xientlap—calm, wise, disciplined holy man that he was – lose control to fury like that.  It seemed a step away from madness.  I questioned him afterwards, and he just shrugged it off as stress and changed the subject.

Stress.  That was the main thing.  We were all stressed out about something, mostly life in general.  The squadron couldn't work together as well.  Oh, sure, we went through the motions.  But we could no longer act as a single entity.  It was a vicious cycle.  The more stress we felt, the more we became disunited, the more Zarbon and the sergeant worried, the more they pressured us, the more stress we felt… and so on and so forth.  There were added pressures, too.  Zarbon was called into question about the lower efficiency rating.  The sergeant was pressured to keep control of his squadron.  Vegeta was worried about finally getting a victory in the next tournament.  I was worried about Vegeta, and now Xientlap, who looked like he'd snap at any time.  Kriei was realizing how much everyone hated him and how much stronger those people were.  I really don't know what was bugging Xientlap, other than just living too long under Frieza's rule.  I've heard that the years can really take its toll on some people.  Tolin was only making things worse, for himself and for everyone else.  He was trying to calm everyone down, and he just ended up downright annoying.  People let him know, including me.  We were also still suspicious of him—we thought that he might be how Zarbon or even Frieza was keeping such close surveillance on us.  And who am I forgetting?  Oh, yeah.  Insics.  Computer man.  Come to find out, his kind only lived for 25 or 27 years.  H would die naturally within the next few years.  It was strange.  He was still as youthful and as powerful as when I first met him, but he assured us that his "components were degrading."  Whatever that means.  I think the entire situation was degrading to everyone, but that's just me.

Needless to say, since I've already said it repeatedly, things were at a breaking point.  I was NOT looking forward to the next purge mission.  Cooped up together in that little ship, all the while at each other's throats.  We'd barely survived the last purge tour.  We still played cards, but it was in a tense atmosphere.  It wasn't fun anymore.  We did it mostly out of habit.  Even the non-elites couldn't break up the mood.  And while we had more freedom on our off year, things were still getting worse.

I didn't think the tournament could have come soon enough, but finally it did.  Raditz was in the non-elite tournament—he really should have been an elite—and again pulled second place.  And that's only because his opponent had put sleeping powder in his food before the match.  Of course, when Raditz found out, he went and half-killed the non-elite champion, but the deed was done.  All Raditz did was get his vengeance and not the title.  Though I think that's more important.  Anyway.  Raditz was back from pummeling the cheater in time to seethe beginning of the elite tournament.  Only Vegeta from our squadron got into the tournament.  Vegeta was the only one who even bothered.  Things were so bad with the rest of us that we didn't even care anymore.  It was like all of us finally saw the ridiculous futility of all these events that we used to hold as important.  We were all just sick of that life.  Vegeta was young enough to be able to go with it, but we were all old and tired and sick of it all.

Xientlap and I watch the tournament intently, trying to get our spirits up.  We knew we were depressed, and we knew depression was dangerous.  I could tell Xientlap wanted to tell me something, but something stopped him every time.  And both of us must have forgotten about it at the end of the tournament.  'Cause you know what?  Vegeta won.

Yes, the Prince of all Saiyan finally won the tournament.  It happened in the early afternoon, so we celebrated all day.  For once we were happy.  You should have seen the prince.  Not even his obligatory conversation with Frieza could faze him.  That night was the first time I let him drink alcohol.  I felt he deserved it—something to tell him he wasn't a child anymore.  Of course, I didn't let him get drunk.  Why let him get a hangover on such a great night?  He was in too good a mood to argue with me.  Most of Zarbon's soldiers that were planet-side joined in.  Such large parties are usually discouraged, but I think Frieza was too amused with Vegeta and the rest of us to step it.  All the tension and stress of the past year was forgotten, and our squadron was together right in the middle of it, even Kriei and Insics.  I swear I saw Insics smile.  Maybe old age was getting to him.

It was late at night when the party finally broke up.  Vegeta and I went to a training room to get in a celebratory spar.  Raditz found us and joined in, and we laughed and reminisced about Planet Vegeta.  Every thing was golden-tinged that night.  All the remembered pain was overshadowed by the good times.  We talked and sparred until Prince Vegeta was practically asleep on his feet.  When Raditz got in a good his on Vegeta, that's when I knew that it was time for sleep.  There was no training the next day, so we planned to sleep as late as we wanted.  When we reached the rooms, and Vegeta and Raditz stumbled to bed, I realized I'd forgotten something.  Xientlap had told me to meet him in his room and that he had something to tell me.  I cursed myself and hoped he understood my lateness.  I considered waiting until the next day, but I decided to go see if he was asleep.  Well, something just told me to check up on him.   When I got there and rang the com, there was no answer.  I was about to turn away when I saw something that shook me.  It was blood.  On the door.

That wouldn't usually have worried me.  I've lost count of the times I've returned to my room bloodied from training.  But there had been no training that day.  Xientlap must have gotten in a pretty serious fight, and maybe he was being too stubborn to go to the medic.  That must have been it.  I opened the door to lecture him on not taking care of himself.  Xientlap was there, already in bed.  He was a little bloody.  Must have gotten in a fight.  I decided to shake him awake and drag him off to the medic because his chest looked sort of funny and he must have broken some ribs and he was bleeding from the chest a little in fact a lot but I would still wake him up and didn't need to be sleeping in that condition he needed a medic so I needed to scold him and I would take him to the medic and he would complain about how I never just leave him along and make fun of my saying I was like an old mother sometimes and we would laugh and talk about Vegeta's victory and how all this bickering within the group was just ridiculous and he would tell me what he'd been meaning to tell me.  I almost touched him but the hole in his chest was a little bigger than I thought and the room was starting to smell funny and sort of familiar and if Xientlap was asleep then why were his eyes open and staring at me was he actually awake since when was his room so red but all that could be explained oh gods it was blood there was blood all over but he could still be gotten to a medic.  I took a step forward and my foot slid on something.  I looked down and it was a heart.  Xientlap's heart.  I screamed.

Xientlap lay there.  The hold I had noticed in his chest was actually the fact that the chest had been opened up and his organs had been torn out and strewn about the room. Xientlap's face was that of utter calm, and his eyes stared at me like so many of the lifeless victims I had slaughtered.  That calm slowly transmitted from him to me, because I stopped screaming and started to think.  A murderer was on the loose.  Who was the one renowned for removing the organs of his murder victims?  Kriei.  Kriei was out for blood and vengeance.  He'd be out for the rest of the squadron.  Who did Kriei hate after Xientlap?  Tolin.  I ran to Tolin's room, and the same sight greeted me, only now a smile had been carved on Tolin's face and the eyes were showing pure horror.  I lost no time in mourning.  Insics's room was close by.  I had to catch him.  I raced over there to find a slightly confused Insics.  I'd never gone to his room at night.  I didn't bother explaining the situation, but he saw the wild fury in my eyes and followed me anyway.  I went where I should have gone in the first place instead of Tolin's.  Vegeta's room.

I burst in just in time.  Kriei had used special drugs, probably in the alcohol that night, to incapacitate Vegeta, so Vegeta was laying there helplessly as Kriei started to cut into him.  I stopped him just in time.  The ensuing battle was a short one.  Insics got Vegeta to the medic while I fought Kriei.  I could tell from his coloring that he was angry and scared.  He must have drugged us all.  It didn't work on Insics because his machine-like body had dealt with the poison more efficiently than most bodies.  I found out later that it didn't affect me because it was one of the few drugs I was immune to.  I didn't care at the time.  All I cared about was that the creature before me—the creature I'd been forced to trust and work with on so many missions—had killed my greatest friend and had tried to kill my Prince.  I don't know which was worse.  I lost myself in that fight.  It attracted everyone's attention, including the sergeant's and Zarbon's.  But it was too late for intervention on Kriei's behalf.  Before anyone could stop me, I twisted his head right off.

I remember being extremely dizzy after that.  I dropped to one knee, still holding the murderer's head.  I must have looked like some sort of macabre ball player.  But when Zarbon demanded an explanation, I dropped the head, saw it roll a couple of paces, and stood as close to attention as I could.  So many people were around and I couldn't even ear them.  I couldn't feel anything at the time—only exhaustion.  Reality was suspended in my mind.  I remember thinking, 'There.  I hope Xientlap's happy now.'

That's about where Frieza came in.  He was not happy, and thought this may have been some revelries taken too far, since he saw my squadron in the middle of it.  The crowd dispelled somewhat, knowing it was disrespectful to crowd around Frieza.  I think mostly Zarbon's soldiers remained.  This time, when Frieza demanded an explanation, I suppressed my dizziness and found my tongue.  Xientlap was dead.  Tolin was dead.  Vegeta had almost been killed.  And I had just killed the murderer.

Frieza just stared at me.  For once his stare didn't intimidate me.  I was in too much shock to care.  He ordered some soldiers to check Xientlap and Tolin's rooms.  Then he ordered what was left of our squadron to report to his throne room. We left the corpse behind.  Insanely, I thought about bringing along Kriei's body and head.  But that would have just invited Frieza to demand that the corpses and organs of Xientlap and Tolin also be brought along, so I refrained from that crazy train of thought.  Frieza led the way, with Zarbon slightly behind him, and I followed the sergeant, taking the rear.  I couldn't even think.  It was all so unreal.  When we arrived at the throne room, I just stood there in utter calm and weariness.  I had an idea that I might be dying that night.  Honestly, I didn't care.

Insics reported after a few minutes, saying that Vegeta was being treated for poison and minor wounds and that it would take a few hours before he could leave the medics.  Then Insics joined me.  It occurred to me to wonder why we were still waiting.  This was all that was left.  But my question was soon answered.  The soldiers returned with reports on the deaths of Xientlap and Tolin.  I remember being slightly annoyed that Frieza hadn't taken my words for truth.  Then I prepared myself as the soldiers left.  I figured I was going to die, and my suspicions were confirmed when Frieza raised one hand slowly, light and energy forming into a ball at the tip of one finger.  He let loose the energy, I steeled myself, but nothing came.  Instead, I looked to the side to see a smoking husk where once stood my sergeant.  I couldn't even feel his loss.  "That," Frieza said, "was for losing control of your squadron."

Frieza's voice and face is still burned into my memory, like the rest of this night.  He faced Zarbon, and said, "Well.  I guess this squadron is effectively disbanded, wouldn't you agree, Zarbon?"  Zarbon only looked down in shame.  We had been the strongest card in his hand, but he'd held us too long, and we'd nearly destroyed his entire game.

"It's just as well," Frieza continued.  "There were due for it anyway.  Zarbon, I'm taking control over them from you.  You may go."

Zarbon left quickly, probably to put together a squadron he could take on the next purge tour.  I really didn't care.  I was more worried about myself.  I was no longer under Zarbon.  What next?   I stood beside Insics, waiting.  Frieza dealt with Insics first.  He was perfectly aware that Insics had not long to live, and decided to set him to working on computers for the remainder of his life.  A very generous retirement, since most soldiers fight until their dying day.  After his new assignment, Insics left the room.  I never saw him again.

I was alone with Frieza.  Frieza had this sort of mocking quality to his voice that never goes away unless he's angry.  He wasn't angry.  "My, my," he said slowly, "we've had a busy night, haven't we, Nappa?"

I could only bow stiffly.  All I could think of was that I wouldn't be dying that night.  Or that day.  The sun was starting to come up.

"Well," he continued.  "You've had enough revenge for your friends' death?"  I nodded.  "I thought so.  I've been watching you, Nappa.  I've been watching you and your prince for a long time.  I thought you both were wasting you talents and intelligence in that squadron."

So I found out that Frieza knew all I'd been hiding.  Of course he knew.  He knew me back when I was a general and held no such façade.  Was my façade rubbing off on me so that I couldn't realize that?  I would have to be careful.

"How would you like to have a small command?  Just one person, non-elite, maybe that Saiyan Raditz.  I can easily revoke Zarbon's command over him.  Yes, you two would make a good team.  You'll be given mission worthy of your talents.  Maybe one day you can make it up to sergeant.   I trust you'll be a better sergeant than that one," he indicated the still-smoking remains beside me.  I couldn't say a thing.  It was settled, and it wasn't so bad.  I'd still have to go on missions, but at least I wouldn't have to put up with anyone else.  Just Raditz and…

I stopped thinking there.  I knew I was taking a risk, but I bowed low and asked anyway.  "Lord Frieza, permission to ask a question."  Frieza just laughed and gave me permission.  To which I responded, "What of Prince Vegeta?"  Frieza laughed again.  "How did I know that was coming?  What of Prince Vegeta.  As you have probably noticed, I've had my eye out on the boy for a long time.  You've done well in training him, as has Zarbon, but I think I should take over his training.  He needs guidance that only I can give him.  Don't you worry; he'll be just fine with me.  You'll be alerted on the details of your new command later on today.  Now leave."

I bowed to Frieza one last time and left the throne room.  I was still walking in a trance.  He'd done it.  He'd found a way to separate me and Vegeta.  I don't know why I thought I could have prevented it.  Controlling us was so simple for Frieza.  I couldn't do a thing.  He had Vegeta, and I couldn't do a thing.  I walked through the corridors to my room, passing the medic to make sure Vegeta was all right.  He was, but had to take three more hours to counteract the poison.  I ignored all questions from curious soldiers.  None of them mattered anyway.  I just walked to my room and locked the door.  I double-checked to make sure my room was still debugged, and then I broke down.

That's probably the only time since infancy I've cried.  I didn't think I was capable of it.  But when I walked in my room, the room that was identical to all the rooms I'd seen that night, the room painted with Xientlap's blood.  It all sank in.  He was gone.  Xientlap was dead and gone and I'd never see him again.  The only person I'd ever fully trusted and he was gone.  Eve Kriei's death at my hands felt so empty.  It couldn't bring Xientlap back.  Nothing could.  I even mourned for Tolin and the sergeant.  I'd spent ten years of my life with these people only to have them town away so violently.  Why didn't I meet Xientlap that night earlier?  That could have stopped the whole thing.  Why hadn't I killed Kriei earlier?  What had Xientlap wanted to tell me?  All these regrets and self-condemnations raced through my head as I lay in bed, not even bothering to change out of my bloody uniform.

When I wasn't thinking about Xientlap, I was thinking about Prince Vegeta.  Who knows when I would see him after I left with Raditz?  He was out of my reach.  I couldn't protect him anymore.  What if he ended up just like Frieza?  What if he became a monster, a thing of evil, who only recognized strength and not things like loyalty and heritage?  What if he became loyal to Frieza, like the other commanders?  What if I came back and I couldn't even recognize my prince?

By late afternoon I had slept a couple of hours.  I had composed myself.  I had showered and changed clothes.  I didn't even have bags under my eyes.  In fact, you couldn't have told by looking at me that I'd gone through on of the most traumatizing experiences of my life.  I couldn't show it.  I had to go on.  I gave a dry account of what had happened, since he'd been incapacitated since then.  He took everything relatively well, and even congratulated me for killing Kriei, until I told of Frieza's orders.  He was furious.  He said that he couldn't be separated from his subjects – his fellow Saiyans.  He didn't want tot be trained by Frieza.  Of course, there was nothing he could do.  We were trapped again.  I appreciated his sentiments, though I wondered how long they'd last under Frieza's infamous training.  I warned Prince Vegeta of a few of my fears, and how Frieza would try to change him.  He just shrugged it off and said it would never happen.  I just wished him the best and said that I would always be loyal to him no matter what happened.

Raditz and I left two days later in two space pods.  We had the new scouters that had a communication link straight to Frieza's command central.  We could stay out in space for multiple years this way.  And that we did.  For the next eight years we went on purge missions together.  And this is where I end for now.  I can't write anymore.  Recalling the death of Xientlap has made me so tired.  It's too painful.  I will resume later.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Cka3ka (Gee, thanks. I hope you read chapter 8 as well.), Lil Shady (So sorry for the gender mix-up. Most pennames and handles are so gender nonspecific. I usually avoid that mistake. I'm telling you, shouldn't we just have neutral pronouns that aren't derogatory instead of having to worry about genders all the time. That would satisfy the politically correct people. Anyway. Sorry for this chapter being so, I don't know, depressing. I'll probably write a lighter chapter next. This stuff just needed to be said. Things were going too good.), Kiarene (Hope you enjoyed the fic! It's always good to get new readers.), Renee the Rabid Squirrel (Thanks! I guess I've gotten better at writing this fic.), aqua-illusion (One of the few who reads both of my fics. Isn't the idea of chibi Vegeta beating anyone up just funny? I've had so much fun with li'l Vegeta. But seeing as he even got beat up by Zarbon in the Frieza Saga, I couldn't have him win. But hey! He won now.), and kelli (Another new reader. Read the whole thing too. Thanks-a- million!)  
  
As I said, the next chapter is going to be lighter, and will probably mainly focus on Nappa and Raditz's missions. I'm rather looking forward to it. C'est tout.


	10. DeathWish

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
Author's Notes: Well, the last chapter seemed rather controversial. I was expecting that. I'll leave my comments on that for the author's notes. This chapter is lighter, but seemed to be harder to write. Or start, anyway. It's more of a transition and tying up loose ends. Hope you enjoy it.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 10: Death-Wish**

You know, these feelings of imminent death all surround Earth.  I know I'm going to die on Earth.  Or rather, I know I'm going to die when I get to Earth.  So the question is: What if I split?  Leave.  Change course right now, instead of writing this depressing account and dwelling on how I'm going to die.  There's nothing to stop me.  I have no allegiance to Frieza.  Raditz is dead.  Vegeta doesn't need me—hasn't needed me since he was fourteen, and maybe even before that.  There's not much he can do to stop me.  He's probably asleep at this very moment.  He wouldn't notice I was gone until he got to Earth, and then he probably wouldn't bother trying to find me.  I mean, he didn't seem to care about wishing Raditz back.  I'm no better than Raditz in his eyes.  And we're in the frontier of explored space anyway.  I could find some backwoods planet… maybe fake my own death.  Live out the rest of my life there.  I wouldn't have to go on endless purge missions.  Or constantly worry about Vegeta.  Or watch every word and action just to make sure that I live another day.  It'd be nice…

But I'm not going to.  I'm just going to keep on pathetically following Vegeta, like always.  Even if it means my death.  Believe me, I've had plenty of opportunities through the years to just pick up and leave.  In fact, this account has gotten to a huge chunk of my life that can be described as just that—one big missed opportunity for escape.  I was practically alone.  I never saw Frieza.  The only word I got from the Kold Empire was from orders they sent me, reports I sent them, and stop-offs at bases for supplies and maintenance.  We were sent out into the backwoods of space.  Not like where I am now, but it was pretty remote.  Even the bases out that way had seen Frieza maybe once.  There were no extremely loyal followers like there was in the heart of Kold territory.  Raditz and I could have just left and have barely been missed.  It's not that I'm a coward.  I'm just practical.  I've known since day one that a life under Frieza is no life at all.  I'm not invincible, after all.  The shadow of death has been hanging over me ever since the day Frieza took over the Saiyan Empire.  But have I done the most logical thing—escape?  

Ok, so maybe I'm not that practical.  I can try to fool myself into thinking that I have no allegiance, and nothing is holding me back.  I've said things, like I'm no longer a Saiyan, and I'm just a lone warrior.  But those are all lies.  Self-delusions.  That's the scary thing.  I'm not just a prisoner of Frieza, I'm a prisoner of myself.

I don't mean to go off the philosophical deep-end.  I guess dying men get like this.  Well, ones that are contemplating their own imminent death.  People who die unexpectedly don't really have any worthwhile last words.  They're not really caring about what might have been.  Or what particular religion they do, or don't, follow.  Or even their loved ones most of the time (I say "most of the time" because of mothers.  Those can get pretty nasty.)  Most of the time they're thinking, "Ow.  There's a big hole in my chest," or, "I wonder if my insurance covers this."  I know what they're thinking because dying people tend to think aloud.  It can get pretty funny sometimes.  Ok, maybe only in a macabre way, but you take what humor you can get.

And that was a disturbing tangent.  Anyway.  Back to my story.  I left off with Raditz and I leaving for frontier purging.  That's the sort of place they send individuals or small groups for severe training.  Or just to get rid of them.  I think it was more the latter in our case.  Frieza wanted Vegeta alone, and he couldn't do that with me and Raditz dropping in ever two or so weeks.  And maybe he wanted to get rid of us permanently without losing Vegeta's trust.  Ha.  Trust.  Was Vegeta that deceptive, or did Frieza have a blind spot?  Vegeta is scarily deceptive, but it's impossible to fool Frieza.  Too many people are space dust for doing just that.  I honestly don't know how Vegeta's been able to pull off living all these years.  He must have developed split personalities—an obedient one around Frieza and a rebellious one around us.  Who knows what Frieza did to the boy those years that I wasn't there.

If you want to hear what happened to Vegeta all that time, you're out of luck.  He never told me.  Whenever I would pry… well, he just didn't want to talk about it.  So, for once, I'm going to solely be focusing on what Raditz and I did instead of mentioning Vegeta every other sentence.  I know I tend to do that.  I guess Raditz is right.  I guess I am like a fussy old mother sometimes.  Of course, he knows now that he isn't allowed to call me that anymore.  At least…  I keep forgetting that he's dead now!

Raditz and I grew very close in those seven years we were in the frontier.  I was finally able to teach him, and he got incredibly strong.  Of course, I was always twenty steps ahead of him, but he got good enough to be an elite.  It would have done his father proud.  Maybe then his father could have overlooked Raditz's mental inadequacies.  That had always been a problem between Raditz and Bardock.  They spoke completely different languages, and I don't mean Common and Saiyan.  Bardock tried to teach Raditz what he knew, but Raditz just didn't have the capacity or the interest in those things.  I guess that's why Bardock thought that Raditz ran away.

It was nice to have an adult to talk to though.  Vegeta had been a young teenager, but Raditz was 21.  He had seemed so much a boy when I first joined Frieza's Army, but now he had grown so much while I had changed very little.  And we could actually talk.  Conversation on Zarbon's ship and on planet Frieza was always so careful.  And prolonged conversation between an elite and a non-elite was nearly unheard of—even between two of the same race.  But now we had a semblance of freedom.  Oh, don't get me wrong.  He was no replacement for Xientlap, but he was a help.  I realized it was better than trying to converse with an arrogant little 14-year-old prince who looks down on people as a defense mechanism.  A lot better.  Sometimes we'd just stay on planets we'd just purged—out in the jungle where we didn't cause much damage—for a night.  Just so we could get the feel of planet beneath our feet.  And we'd just talk.  I told him stories about his father.  We'd talk about escaping, or maybe even finding that brother of Raditz's.  Of course, it was just talk.  We wouldn't really escape.  And Raditz wanted to wait a while before bringing Kakarrot into our nightmarish world.  Mostly to let him get stronger.  I had my doubts that Kakarrot was even alive, but I kept those thoughts to myself.  Why take away Raditz's hope?  Surely he must have thought about Kakarrot being dead, but he just never said it.  He probably thought that if he said it, it would be true.  We believe stupid things like that.

But talking about Kakarrot got us to thinking.  Well, got me to thinking, anyway.  I'd never really considered it, but could there be others like Kakarrot?  There was that whole plan I formulated with King Vegeta and Bardock.  We had planned for Planet Vegeta being blown up.  We had tried to make the Saiyan Empire indestructible.  All those children we'd sent off into space—and we hadn't heard a peep from any of them.  What struck me in momentary whim became my obsession for years.  I refused to accept that we were the last of the Saiyans.  It just wasn't logical that all those babies had been killed.  And by that time they'd all be at the very least nine years old.  I had to find out.  Every planet we purged—we'd even stop by some other planets just to look—we'd search.  Maybe, if the planet was still intact, they were just hiding out.  Or here's a wild hypothetical.  What if they bumped their head and lost all their memory?  I know, it's a bit melodramatic, but at the time, I would have believed anything.  Hey, now that I think about it, that's what happened to Kakarrot.  Heh.  Go figure.

The years went by just like that.  Search, destroy, and move on.  I know I talked about Frieza's frontier bases, but we rarely went to those.  We could get our supplies from the planets we destroyed.  Both of us were pretty fair at ship maintenance.  Now that I think back on that time, it was a pretty good time in my life.  There wasn't much hassle.  I was pretty much in command—a position I've never really liked giving up.  There were rarely any immediate threats on my life.  Besides purging and sending in reports, I didn't even feel like I was in Frieza's Army anymore.  It was a nice feeling.

But the searching for Saiyan children produced nothing.  I KNOW we sent some to that part of the universe, but they were just nowhere to be seen.  Questioning people was no help at all.  Our uniforms were enough to scare anyone witless, and most of the time it was justified.  If there had been Saiyans on any of those planets, the people we asked didn't have the presence of mind to remember them.  Sometimes there were reactions to our tails, but that could have been anything.  Not many races have tails, so it could have been just general curiosity.  We finally did stumble across something, though.  Most of the planets we destroyed were so primitive they didn't even keep effective written records.  They relied on oral history, which necessitated our personal interrogation tactic.  But on THIS planet… I can't remember the name… they had a pretty decent level of technology.  No space travel, and still relying on hand-written paper texts, but a pretty accurate history record, even if it was written like a piece of literature.  For people who had almost never encountered life from other worlds, they were pretty accepting of us.  I was kind of glad we didn't have to kill them.  It was just a random populated planet we visited.  On the other hand, they didn't know anything about the Kold Empire, so they didn't fear us.  That was… kind of nice.  It's a bit tiring to be feared all the time by everyone.  Not only do you have to keep up a reputation, you have to keep your physical defenses up all the time.  You never know when some young punk protecting his planet will get in a lucky shot.  Or, in a universe with endless possibilities, you never know when just one backwoods hick will be stronger than you.  I mean, hey, I could be killed by a warrior on Earth.  The data on that planet said there were no warriors that even came close to even Kold entry level power, but then there was that one that killed Raditz and Kakarrot.  You never know.

I didn't even have to ask those people about Saiyans.  They automatically recognized our space pod and our tails.  They didn't know anything about Saiyans—just that there had been a boy with a space pod and a tail that had been killed on their world.  When I asked what had killed the boy, they showed us diagrams and paintings of men who came in more space pods.  I then found they also recognized our uniforms.  It was what the men had been wearing.

Ok, something didn't make sense to me.  Why were they so helpful to us when we encompassed everything that had brought violence to their planet?  That usually doesn't cause people to welcome you with open arms.  More like open fire.  I'm not one to mince words, so I asked them straight up.  They thought… and this is no lie… that we were an oppressed people and they felt pity on us.  Imagine!  Us!  An oppressed people!  Ok, so maybe we were, but that's not the point.  We could have destroyed their entire world without even trying hard.  We wouldn't, but we could have.  And they felt pity on us!  What's wrong with this universe!  Doesn't the name Saiyan strike fear in the hearts of men anymore?  Apparently not.  But it shouldn't strike pity in the hearts of men.  We're vicious killers.  Great warriors.  A proud people that doesn't take any crap from anybody.  We don't get pitied.

At least, that's what I was thinking at the time as I was leaving the planet.  I was just pissed that we came so close to a Saiyan only to find they the boy had been killed.  When I calmed down, I was able to sort through the facts.  The boy had been killed.  By men.  In our uniforms.  Kold soldiers.  And the planet wasn't destroyed.  That meant…

Piece by piece I put the puzzle together.  Hundreds of planets with similar stories.  It was five years before I could convince myself.  That… he knew.  He had known all the time why we were sending children into space like crazy.  All this time we thought we were so clever, and we weren't fooling him a bit.  He'd made sure that Raditz, Vegeta, and I were the only Saiyans.  He had hunted down the children like animals or slaves.  He had purged us.  It… was unthinkable.  And horrifying.  And made me so angry.  Everything I had tried to do in life had been in vain.  I couldn't protect Vegeta anymore.  All the plans I had made with King Vegeta and Bardock were nullified.  I'd given up everything and had accomplished nothing.

I spent the next year practically suicidal.  I wouldn't eat or sleep until I was half-dead.  I'd go berserk in purges, just hoping that someone would get in a lucky shot and just end it all.  Or maybe I thought Raditz would get sick of me and blast me when I wasn't looking.  You remember, Saiyans don't kill themselves.  That is dishonorable.  We get in a fight we can't win and let our opponent do the rest.  There is honor in such a defeat.  I thought maybe Fate would take pity on me end the joke of my life.  My life had been over for years anyway.  Those were some of my darkest hours—darker even than the times Frieza had captured me.  There were no more endless hours of talk with Raditz.  No more searching for Saiyans—for I knew there were none.  Even when Raditz talked about Kakarrot still being alive, I called him a fool.  I know he wanted to kill me sometimes, but I had practically raised him.  He just couldn't.  It must have been scary for him too.  I had guided him all those years, and I was lost.

I'm not still like that.  I probably wouldn't have survived if I had stayed like that.  What broke me out of it?  You're not going to believe me.  I know you're not.  In fact, I bet my… uh…  Hey, what do I own, anyway?  Never mind.  Anyway, if I had anything, I would bet it that you wouldn't guess what pulled me out of my depression.  But would you believe that it all centered around a purge, and got me severely punished afterward?  Well, it was worth it.

As I was saying, Raditz and I were sent to purge this one planet.  Just a standard purge way off in the frontier.  We landed, but our navigational systems had been screwed up, so we ended up landing in a forest instead of in the middle of a city.  No big problem, just really inconvenient.  And the natives might get a chance to organize.  After flying for about an hour, we found a city—obviously the capital.  I looked around at the natives in grim amusement—they were all running about shouting about a holy man.  I told you some of the funny things you can hear from dying religious people.  At least this time it wasn't flaming breasts.  I waited just a few minutes more, maybe out of cockiness or maybe it was my death-wish manifesting itself.  I was just about to do my city-clearing attack when I noticed a high power level on my scouter.  It had been a while since I'd had a real challenge, so I waited.  I remained there, standing next to what looked like some sort of adult cinema, and remarked to Raditz about the irony of where we were meeting the holy man.  He didn't laugh.  I thought he just didn't get it, but then he turned completely pale, as if he were seeing a spirit over my shoulder.  Which was where the holy man had arrived.  I turned around to see what sort of monstrosity these people had picked to worship, but it wasn't a beast.  It was a ghost.  For once in my life I almost gave in to superstition.  For before me, in a robe that failed to mask his features that were so different from the natives, stood a tall, slender, dark purple man with horns on his head and arms.  Xientlap.

So many things went through my head.  I could be dead without even noticing.  This planet could be Hell.  I could be hallucinating, or dreaming, or maybe the past few years had been a dream.  'Cause there was Xientlap.  Smiling.  As if nothing had ever happened.  I could barely hear the natives around me screaming.  I think they wanted him to kill me, but I'm not sure.  You know, people can be so judgmental, just because you have to kill them.  But maybe that was it.  Maybe I was at judgment, and Xientlap was a god, surrounded by clamoring angels.  But Xientlap broke my illusions by saying, "Did you think Kriei could ever kill me?"

I laughed.  He'd done it.  He'd actually done it.  He'd escaped—faked his own death like I'd been contemplating for years.  But he hadn't waited until he was alone in the frontiers.  He hadn't even done it on a purge mission, when he could have easily gotten lost in the fray.  He'd done it right in the heart of Kold territory.  I'd have called him a fool if it wasn't for the fact that he'd gotten away with it.  I asked him a few questions, just to make sure he wasn't a shape shifter or something like that.  He wasn't.  He was as real as every hair on Raditz's head.  Then we fought.  We made a big show out of it – something about me having to purge the planet and Xientlap having to protect the planet.  It was all a show for the natives anyway.  Then we made a big thing about Xientlap persuading me not to purge the planet.  Then FINALLY we could get away from the crowds of awe-struck hicks and talk.

We went to Xientlap's new home.  It was an abandoned castle that he and some followers had fixed up.  At least, that's what it looked like.  I later found out that it was a former guard tower.  The planet I had arrived on used to be a prison planet for war criminals.  It made sense.  Where else would Xientlap go?  Ironically, the planet these people were from got into a world war and ended up nuking both sides.  Only the war criminals were left.  They'd tried to set up some kind of civilization.  I mean, generals convicted of war crimes can be the most civilized type of murderer.  But each project had utterly failed.  But they were making progress since Xientlap was there.  He had started a religious movement.  Well, less focus on religion and more on finding inner redemption.  Some kind of moral gobbledygook.

Xientlap HAD faked his own death.  He knew what Kriei was planning and had put a very realistic model of himself in his place.  Tolin was dead, though.  Xientlap had chosen to let Tolin die because the suspicions we had of Tolin were true.  He had caused many people to be tortured to death in much the same way as Kriei had done.  And he possibly knew of Xientlap's plan.  I pointed out that Kriei had almost killed Vegeta, and that shocked Xieltlap.  He hadn't known that Kriei would go that far.  He had actually planned for me and Vegeta to escape with him, but he couldn't tell us with Tolin and Kriei always around.  And then I was so late getting to his room…  I could have been free!  With Vegeta.  And I would have probably rounded up Raditz.  But I was too late.  Although, thinking back, would I have gone?  Probably not.  There was still a matter of paying back Frieza for all that he'd done.  And avenging our people.  That's why I ultimately stay.  Everything is to kill Frieza.  You see?  I can't run away even when I really want to.

I spent a couple more days on Xientlap's planet, for he had pretty much taken over the planet.  He really is a leader, and not a military one like I am.  He is a spiritual leader.  And a social one too.  You really couldn't tell, after all those years of Xientlap's rule, that the people there had once been the scum of the military.  It was so peaceful… well near perfect.  Instead of the Hell that was my first impression, it was more of a paradise.  I had peace of mind.  I had my best friend, who sympathized with everything I'd gone through in the past few years.  Especially when I told him of the Saiyan hunt.  We theorized for a bit on if this had been done for every race, or if Frieza just had a thing with Saiyans.  Raditz and I, all in all, had it great.  No worries.  No murders.  No long flights in cramped space pods (god, I wish I could stretch my legs!).  That's why I knew I couldn't stay.  It was paradise.  I didn't deserve paradise.  And I still had a prince I was devoted to.  I had to leave.  I left despite all of Xientlap's protests.  But he knew my reasoning.  He wouldn't stop me.  So Raditz and I packed up and left.

Our navigational systems still weren't doing well, especially the auto-nav, so we spent a week in utter sleepless misery piloting the ships manually.  When we finally limped to the nearest Kold base, I was so sleep-deprived and delirious that I'd actually forgotten to fudge my reports that it looked like I'd purged the planet.  I just passed out and let the medics take care of me.  When I woke up, I was on Frieza's main planet.

It was an eerie feeling—waking up millions of miles from where you remembered falling asleep.  The eerie feeling passed soon enough, though.  It gave way to severe pain.  Frieza declared open field day on me, and even took some time for himself.  I think it was two weeks before I was allowed to stay in a semi-mobile state.  If the severity of the punishment confuses you, think of this.  Command had been placed on my shoulders.  That is a sign of trust with Frieza.  He trusts you to command well and complete every mission flawlessly.  If you do not, you are little more than a traitor.  I say a little more, because I didn't die.  A traitor would have died.  Instead, my command was taken away.  I was still elite, but not in the running for the rank of sergeant.  Really, I'm glad.  I wouldn't have liked to have a command position on Frieza's terms anyway.

Raditz had been re-evaluated—his strength and battle experience tested.  He was placed in the elite.  You may think that this would be a good thing, but at least as a non-elite he was the strongest non-elite.  His status changed to one of the weakest elite, and the only ones he could fight and train with were elite.  So he pretty much stayed beaten up all the time.  At least that made him stronger.  And we were more partners than commander/commandee.  Maybe it was ultimately better that way.

When I became fully conscious for the first time in weeks, I was greeted by the smirking face of Vegeta.  It took a minute for it to register in my head.  He was older.  And slightly taller.  Not much, though.  He was 21 or 22.  Somewhere in there.  Which meant he was a man.  I had missed all of his growing into a man, but now here he was.  It took everything I had in me to school my expression.  It was like a great burden taken off my mind seeing him again.  His smirk grew wider, as if he knew exactly what was going through my head.  He had something that had only come in flashes before, but now surrounded him like an aura.  Royal bearing.  I was actually a little intimidated in his presence.  He informed me that I and Raditz were under his command, and that we would go on purging missions after the tournament.  I asked him if he was entering the tournament, but he laughed in a way that made me feel like I was two feet shorter than him.  He said he had no time to waste on such frivolities.

The boy had… changed.  So much.  I watched him closely in the next couple of days, and indeed until today.  There are so many expressions that he gets that can only come from Frieza.  That disdainful sneer.  That passionless stare that makes you feel like less than a worm.  That smirk—crueler than any smirk he had given growing up.  Indeed, crueler than any his father had given.  The passionate, vengeful child was gone.  In its place was a torturously changed Vegeta—one that I could barely reconcile with the memory of the boy I had half-raised.  He no longer looked to me for instruction.  He gave orders.  He didn't care that I'd been practically a father to him a mere seven or eight years before.  He didn't care that Raditz used to be able to frighten him with scary stories.  He saw us as followers—subjects and subordinates.  In effect… he became exactly what I wanted.  And for that foolishness I can never forgive myself.

I never found out what happened to Xientlap's planet.  I dared not ask anyone.  As much as it kills me to admit, I wasn't sure of Vegeta's loyalties at the time.  He was in commander training, and commanders tend to be extremely loyal to Frieza.  I didn't know how corrupted Prince Vegeta was.  He didn't reveal any of his emotions like he used to.  He is an enigma, and I haven't been able to figure him out since then.  But I will discuss him more when I write about the next era of my life.  The final era of my life, actually.  It's a good thing too.  I don't have much time to finish this.  Earth is looming closer.  But for now, I will get some rest.  Maybe sleep will help me forget my cramped legs.  It's ironic.  I don't want to get to Earth, but I do.  Maybe my death-wish never really has gone away.

Author's Notes: Thanks to all my reviewers: Lil Shady (Your sequel looks like it's going to be great! Hope this chapter will alleviate some sadness. Now, about Kriei's motives. Those are up to the interpretation of the reader. You have to realize that I'm writing in a first person narration, not a third person omniscient. Would Nappa really care about Kriei's motives? I mean, he thinks Kriei killed his best friend and attempted to kill Vegeta. I know I write Nappa as contemplating about motives and feelings, but it's always either about someone he cares about or someone who is stronger than he is and he's trying to find a vulnerability. Nappa wants to accept the explanation that Kriei is just a psychotic serial killer and leave it at that. He can only philosophize about so much. So, since that's how Nappa sees it, I wrote Kriei as a two- dimensional character, not even giving him to ability to talk so that he could remain more of a mystery. Whew! That was a long explanation. Can't wait for your next chapter!), Renee the Rabid Squirrel (I really though long and hard about upping the rating, but I'm not sure if I could do it just for one scene. I don't plan on anything else in the story being that graphic or shocking, so I'm going to leave the rating as is.), aqua- illusion (I hope you like the fact that Xientlap is still alive. I hope I answered the question of Kriei's motives above.), and princess frieza (Doesn't everyone love Chibi Vegeta? Wish I could keep him that way. If you haven't, read Lil Shady's work "Of Two Worlds". It's chock full of Chibi Vegeta goodness. And it's complete. She's writing the sequel right now. And if that's not enough Chibi Vegeta, read "A Killer in Me" by Reber and Annabell. It takes a while for her to update, but it's an awesome read anyway.)  
  
I estimate only about two or three more chapters to go, and that including the mystery reader from the DBZ world. If you want, go ahead and cast your votes in for who you think it is. C'est tout.


	11. Last Rights

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 11: Last Rights**

Often I wonder what it would have been like without Frieza.  I can't even imagine.  I might never have married Okakra or become general.  Or maybe all those things would have happened later in life.  Vegeta may or may not have ever been born.  And I certainly would never have felt the ties to the prince that I feel now.  All that aside, though, I might have been happy.  Well, not "frolic through the fields" happy, but possibly "no torture in x number of years" happy.  I would still have my legion, possibly being a general of the honor guard.  I would certainly be weaker, but I wouldn't really have any need to be this strong.  Everything would be different, but in a good way.

Ah, who am I kidding?  Hopefully not you, or you'd be more gullible than I imagine.  Whose life is truly happy anyway?  Not anyone that I've ever met.  Even those that have wealth, power, and strength – the things we tend to strive for – trade off for paranoia of losing those things.  Sure, I would have a relative peace.  Relative to my life, at least.  But what about Okakra?  And Baen?  And Raditz?  And Vegeta?  And Xientlap?  All those people who have helped me cling to my last shred of sanity while my life is a living chaotic Hell?  I can't picture my life without them.  Even though all of them have caused me grief at some point, they were what kept me alive.  Even though they're all lost to me, I still have the memory of them to keep me going.

We are a day away from Earth.  I see the star moving closer and closer.  Of course, I know that stars are practically immobile, and that it is I who move toward it so fast, but warriors tend to think like that.  As if we're the immovable centers of the universe and all that we see orbit around us.  At least, that's how Saiyans think.  No matter how hard they try to teach me of my own unimportance, I can't get over this . . . selfness.  It's kept me alive.  If I actually thought that the lives of others were worth more than my own, do you think I would agree to purge planets?  I commit genocide on a weekly basis to preserve my own hide.  And I think nothing of it.  I'm a warrior.  I'm more important than those nameless, faceless weaklings that disintegrate at a mere touch of my ki.  So what if they died.  Too bad for them.  They should have been stronger in order to survive.  I had to get stronger to survive.  Why not them?  Why should they be treated any different than I?  My planet was destroyed.  My family, such as it was, was killed.  I got the fate worse than death.  They just got death.  They're lucky, when you come to think of it.  A lot of them probably went to a good place, if there is an afterlife.  Me, I'll end up in the other direction.  I guess I'll find out tomorrow, though.

I've been putting this off.  I haven't written in two months.  I guess I had this crazy notion that if I keep putting off finishing my sarka, I'd stay traveling forever.  It would put off my death indefinitely.  How could I think that?  I'm not a superstitious man.  I certainly don't believe in some kind of divine intervention.  My old age must be getting to me.  Old age – that's a laugh.  I'm not even middle-aged yet, and here I am talking about old age.  Not old in years, but in experience.

Right.  Experience.  I must finish my sarka before we land.  Even though the rest of my life encompasses about seven or eight years, not much went on.  Though, let me tell you.  Vegeta's command is the harshest I'd ever been under.  Worse than the sergeant's, worse than Zarbon's, possibly worse than Frieza's.  At least with them I had a chance.  With Vegeta I can do nothing right.  My purges always take too long.  My work is always too sloppy.  My fighting style always needs work.  Raditz got more of the same.  And all from that little brat!  I used to take care of him.  I used to train him.  I took him over my knee once for skipping out on training on Planet Vegeta.  I taught him everything I knew!  Ever since possibly even before Planet Vegeta was destroyed, I'd acted as a father to him, more than the king ever could.  And here he was.  Giving ME orders.  Insulting ME.  Punishing ME.

Of course, I obeyed his ever command.  How could I not?  I'd been teaching him to take command before, and now he had.  It was what I'd been hoping for.  So what if it was Frieza who taught him the art of command – of royal command?  I really couldn't teach him that.  Frieza could.  Frieza is a prince, after all.  Frieza commands millions.  He was actually the best teacher Vegeta could have hoped for.  Could Vegeta have learned any better from his father?  Probably not.  When I left, Vegeta had been a gawky teenager still having to rely heavily on me for guidance.  When I came back, and in the past seven or eight years, he has not only been a self-assured young man, he is a prince, a grueling taskmaster, and a brilliant military tactician.  And he knows it.  Boy, does he know it.  His ego is absolutely monstrous.  I've never heard such talk.  Well, maybe from Frieza, but no one else.  I don't know why he has no humility.  I know he had to have been severely mistreated while I was away.  Maybe it's another defense mechanism.  I won't begrudge him that.  I have my own, and sometimes mine are more annoying.  I swear, the only thing that's worse than putting up with a stupid person is pretending to be stupid yourself.  But I can't change now.  I've got to play out my hand until the end of the game.

I did the most purges I've ever done under Vegeta's command.  He went after missions with a vengeance.  And hard ones too.  In years past occasionally Raditz and I would get a really hard mission, having to purge a pretty powerful planet.  On those occasions we would change to Oozaru.  And yes, we could even do it without a moon.  It was all thanks to Bardock and a technique he invented.  See, Bardock not only didn't have a lot of faith in Raditz's intelligence, he also wasn't too sure about the boy's strength.  So he developed a technique and only gave it to Raditz, to enhance his usefulness for missions.  Raditz took it as an insult, but that didn't stop him from using it.  For years he kept it a secret from me, because Bardock had told him to, but on one planet he had no choice.  We were cornered, about to be killed, full moon days away, when Raditz formed a relatively harmless energy blast, threw it in the sky, and told me to look up.  I thought he was crazy, but I was desperate, so I did so anyway.  Next thing I knew, I was Oozaru.  We made short work of that planet after that.  I smacked Raditz around for not teaching me the technique any sooner, but I wasn't truly serious.

There's nothing like turning Oozaru.  I can't imagine any Super Saiyan transformation being any better.  In your first few transformations, you lose your mind and retain no memory of anything that happened.  But after you get more used to it, you start being more in control.  That's another reason we sent children to other planets.  Those first few transformations for young Saiyans are just pains to go through.  And it's even harder for the weaker Saiyans.  They can take up to twenty transformations to truly be under control.  But once you do gain control, and memory, it's wondrous.  All the inhibitions you have when you're saiyanoid are gone.  You can do anything and no one can stop you.  Size, strength, senses – all are heightened.  No one can challenge you because everyone's too weak.  It's a sense of euphoria better than what you can get from any substance.  And there are no niggling doubts in the back of your head about killing people.  You know why?  You're not a person.  You're pure animal.  You can't be held accountable for your actions.  Who holds an ape accountable for its actions?  No one.  It's great.  You're the perfect warrior in a paradise of violence.

I haven't gone Oozaru in years.  I really really miss it, but Vegeta won't allow it.  Raditz even showed him the fake moon technique, and Vegeta was slightly impressed, but he still forbade it.  We never fought during a full moon on any planet, no mistakes.  Even when the natives were stronger than we thought.  And that happened quite a lot.  Sometimes we'd get back to a base and Raditz and I would be half alive.  But not Vegeta.  He's so much tougher than I am now.  He's a monster.  Stronger than Raditz and I put together.  What happened to him?

Even though we didn't have Oozaru, we had a lot more going for us.  Seems that Frieza had appointed Vegeta to test out battle equipment in practical experiments.  We got new scouters and armor practically every time we went back to Frieza's capital.  We were forever instructed in new ki techniques to try out.  The only thing we didn't test was weapons.  It would have been truly degrading for an elite to use a weapon.  It just isn't done.  But we tried everything else.  Faster and better space pods.  Devices that would cause erratic weather patterns.  That particular invention should only be used when warriors are NOT on the planet.  Unless they're comfortable fighting in snow blizzards, as I now know from personal experience.  There was also this bizarre tree that grew fruit that pretty much acts like steroids.  We tried out various poisons but those usually only made the planet uninhabitable.  Psychic devices were fun in their novelty, making natives see bizarre hallucinations that would throw them in a panic.  Those are great if a planet finds out you're coming and get a good enough defense organized.  Our latest experiment is Saibamen.  Those are little green men that sprout from seeds after a few minutes of being planted.  They come in handy if the population is a bit larger than you expect.  After the job, they can revert back to seeds.  I still can't figure out if they're intelligent and conscious or not.  Raditz doesn't like them much.  I think it's because each one of them is as strong as he is.  Ticks him off that the strength he had to work for all his life can be matched by a plant.  I don't blame him a bit.  It'd tick me off too.

I know I've been complaining.  Don't get me wrong.  I was glad to be around Vegeta again.  I still care about the kid, even if he's not a kid anymore.  At first, I felt like things would go back to the way it was before now that Vegeta was away from Frieza.  And it would be better.  This time the Saiyans would be alone.  Sure, I was friends with Xientlap, but aliens generally annoy me.  I'm not a racist, really, but I'd much rather just stay among Saiyans.  I thought things had finally taken a turn for the better.  And together, we three Saiyans could plan the destruction of Frieza.  Who knew, after all this time, I could be so naïve, though?  What was I thinking?  Thinks couldn't go back to normal.  Nothing was the same because Vegeta wasn't the same.  I could never even talk to him like I used to.  He was so stern and aloof.  And he made it clear that I was no longer his trainer.  I was – am – his subordinate.  He didn't have respect for me and pretty much the Saiyan race in general.  Once he said something disrespectful about his own father.  At that I'd had enough.  I tried to call him on it, and that's when I experienced just how strong he'd really gotten.  It was unbelievable.  And frightening.    I wasn't sure if he was going to let me live.  I tried to fight back, but my attacks were nothing.  My defenses were nothing.  He kept pounding me long after I'd given up.  I'm pretty sure he only let me live because he didn't have Frieza's authority to kill his subordinates yet.  I'm not sure if anything would stop him now.

Raditz and I tried to make things a little better for ourselves.  Little by little we convinced Vegeta to stay the night on planets after purges.  I'm not sure if it was our persuasiveness or just Vegeta wanting a break from constant space travel, but after a year he capitulated.  It wasn't the same of course.  We didn't feel that we could talk like we used to.  I still wasn't too sure about Vegeta's loyalty.  It made me sick to think about it, but so many others had been turned.  Why would Vegeta be less susceptible?  He would be more susceptible, because he barely knows anything other than life as Frieza's servant.  It's been all but five years of his entire life.  He may not know any better.  And I couldn't really talk to him to find out.  While Raditz and I talked when we stayed nights on planets, Vegeta would be filling out reports like I remember Zarbon doing.  When he'd finish the reports, he'd eat and go straight to sleep.

It wasn't until after about three years of Vegeta's command that Vegeta revealed things about himself to me.  I was determined to find out, and started probing.  At first Vegeta was resistant in the extreme.  But I kept after him and kept after him, trying to find some crack in his armor.  I'd almost given up, but one night it happened without me even trying.  Raditz was asleep – the boy sleeps like a rock – and Vegeta had gone to sleep as well. Vegeta and I are both extremely light sleepers, so there never has been a need to set up a night watch system, but I was awake anyway.  I told you, I rarely sleep.  I was debating on whether or not to force myself to sleep when Vegeta started struggling in his sleep.  I couldn't believe it.  He was actually having a nightmare.  I took my life in my own hands, acting mostly on impulse, and went over to wake him up.  I shook his arm, and he woke up.  Suddenly he was fourteen again.  Maybe even younger.  Fear and pain were clearly written on his face.  It was hard to believe that this was the aloof and exacting taskmaster I'd served under for three years.  He seemed so small and frightened.  He naturally tan skin was incredibly pale, and he was shaking.  I wasn't sure if he wasn't himself, or if he finally was himself.  In a broken whisper, he told me things.  Things that had happened to him.  Things that had been done to him.  I will not speak of these things.  It is too shameful.  I will only say that it more than explained the changes that Vegeta had undergone.  The next morning, Vegeta was back to normal.  At least, what passes for normal with him.  It was like it had never even happened.  Vegeta had already warned me not to tell anyone.  I made it clear that his threat was not necessary.  At that, for the first time since we'd been reunited, he looked abashed.  He let me see the man he was hiding for one night, and no longer.

I've never liked Frieza.  I know it's a new flash for you, but I just really don't like him.  But in the years to come, I found the heights that hate can climb to.  Most of my time was spent hating Frieza.  It burned like a poison within me.  I couldn't think of anything else.  It was a cycle that repeated itself over and over.  Vegeta, Raditz, and I would be sent on a mission with various toys to try out.  We'd go to the planet and usually take about two days to completely purge a planet.  We needed about five days to annex the planet for Frieza's Empire, because we had to be careful not to kill everyone, and to convince the planet leader that it was in his best interest to comply with Frieza's requests.  We'd spend the night on the planet, a time during which Vegeta would berate me and Raditz for any mistakes we made, real or imagined.  Then we would report back to Frieza, who would treat us with absolute contempt, the word "monkey" usually being traded around between Zarbon or Dodoria or any other commander that happened to be around.  Then we'd go out on another mission, trade out toys in – the pattern goes on and on.  And with every cycle my hate grew and grew.  I sometimes hated myself.  A lot of times Vegeta.  But the underlying hatred was for Frieza.  It consumed me.  Heck, it almost killed me.

Let me explain.  It happened probably a couple of years ago.  I was almost in a good mood.  Vegeta had been pretty mellow of the past few days, even though we were working on a pretty hard mission.  It was the Planet Shik.  It was one of those missions that we just had to annex.  We got through in three days.  Let me repeat that.  Three days.  That, my friend, is a record.  Not even the Ginyu Force could do such a mission in three days.  I was actually looking forward to reporting in to Frieza.  Sort of an "in your face" "we Saiyans DO have some worth" type thing.  Of course, I raved on like my usual idiot self, but I was actually in a good mood.  We all were.  I bet Vegeta was thinking that this would be the mission that would actually push his rank over to full commander, instead of commander-in-training.  He probably wouldn't have liked it, but you think stupid things when you're in a good mood.

Before long we reported to Frieza.  We bowed to him – how I hate doing that – and Vegeta reported that we'd done the mission in three short days.  I then found out I'd been fooling myself if I thought that Frieza would have been impressed with us.  You know what he said?  He said, "I'm surprised it took so long."  Surprised it took so long!  He knew our usual mission times.  We were already one of the best squadrons out there, if not the best.  I actually exclaimed in surprise at that one.  It was unbelievable.  We had busted our butts out there, and he knew it, but all Frieza, with Zarbon and Dodoria at his side, could do was laugh at us.  I'm sure my expression just filled them with sadistic glee.  Then Frieza said, "Very well then.  You may go away now."

What else can I say?  I snapped.  How could he treat us with such disregard?  How could he treat Vegeta with such disregard?  Before I knew it, I was on my feet.  It was like I couldn't control my mouth any longer.  I remember exactly what I said, because I've gone over that moment in my head every day for the past couple of years.  I said, "Hey, wait!  Is that all you're going to say to us?!  We just crushed a whole race of people in three days, and all you can say is 'go away'?!"

Frieza started up with some garbage, saying that Zarbon could have done a whole lot better.  Well, of course he could have!  But he wasn't the one to do it.  We were.  Then they started to laugh.  I vaguely remember that Vegeta was still kneeling, but I'd surged in front of him, shaking with anger.  Raditz had joined me.  It was stupid.  I know.  But I figured I had doomed myself anyway, and I'd had as much as I could take.  I remember Frieza trying to dismiss us again, saying that he had more important matters to attend to.  That just put salt on the wound.  I wasn't even thinking anymore.  The thirty odd years of swallowing my pride and pain and just taking orders had finally caught up to me.  It was down to kill or be killed.  Of course, I was going to be killed, but that didn't matter to me anymore.  I just wanted a quick end to it all.  I'm not sure what I screamed, but I attacked.  I actually ran up and was about to throw a punch.  It wasn't calculated.  It wasn't planned.  It was sheer desperation.  Nothing could stop me.  Nothing could hinder me.  I was unstoppable . . . 

. . . until I heard Vegeta's voice calling my name.  There was a ring of panic to his voice, and it made me stop dead in my tracks.  And there you have it.  My loyalty to Vegeta overruled my hatred of Frieza.

Vegeta made some sort of apology to Frieza, and we walked out.  I walked out slowly, almost expecting and half wishing that a blast would come from Frieza or any of the commanders.  I would have welcomed it.  But it didn't come.  I just heard Zarbon making his perfunctory "monkey" joke.  Vegeta paused, a look of anger crossing his face, and for a split-second I panicked at the thought of Vegeta attacking, just as I had.  He didn't, though.  He's always been smarter than I.  We walked out of there virtually unscathed.  Probably the only reason Raditz and I didn't die was that we were still needed for Vegeta to command.  That makes for Vegeta saving my life twice or more in less than five minutes.

I calmed down a lot after that.  I reviewed my situation as the three of us walked out of the palace.  I realized that I'd been hiding too much from Vegeta, and that if my days were so numbered like I'd felt in there, there was still something I needed to tell the prince.  I still wasn't completely sure about his loyalty, especially after that performance in Frieza's throne room.  I needed to tell him who destroyed Planet Vegeta and killed his father.  After all those years, I hadn't told him.  I wasn't even sure if he had figured out for himself, so I had to be sure.  While we were walking, I tried to talk to Vegeta.  I said something about hearing rumors that the story of Planet Vegeta's destruction was fabricated, still hiding the fact that I'd known all along.  I know Raditz was a bit surprised, but of course not at the news.  He'd known for a long time, because I'd told him that first night.  He was surprised that I was telling Vegeta.  So I pretended to explain to them both.  That Planet Vegeta – all the Saiyans – Vegeta's father – had been killed by Frieza.  I was practically begging Vegeta to listen, calling after him while he was still walking.  He stopped, and turned around.  In a voice filled with hatred, he said, "I already knew that."

I didn't know what to think then.  Didn't he feel the same way I did?  Knowing day after day that you were serving your planet's murderer.  Vegeta had loved his father!  He'd worshipped the man.  He'd cried for days after Planet Vegeta's destruction.  And he knew the truth behind it, and was able to keep such perfect control?  It was impossible!  I couldn't keep it up any longer, no matter how I tried.  And Vegeta had had it worse than I.  I conveyed just this, and Vegeta said something that I will never forget for the rest of what's left of my short life, and even in the eternity of the afterlife, if it comes to that.  "So, he killed my father – destroyed my people.  That means nothing to me now.  Strength is the only thing that matters in this world.  Everything else is just a delusion for the weak.  There's only one certainty in life.  A strong man stands above and conquers all.  I know how strong Frieza is.  There's no way I can beat him now.  But wait and see!  As the last of the Saiyans we have flowing through our veins the blood of a warrior race.  The more we fight the more powerful we become.  With each fight, I'll get stronger and stronger.  And one day I'll be strong enough to beat Frieza, and then I will rule the universe.  Exactly the way I was meant to."

I could only stare in shock.  Somehow, Vegeta had just revealed more about himself than that night when he'd told me what Frieza had done to him.  He'd just revealed the man that he had become.  I had NOT taught him to think like that.  Rule the universe?  Talking about strength like it was his own personal god?  When he started talking about Saiyans, I thought that a sliver of Saiyan pride and solidarity still lingered inside of him, but it was all lost.  Vegeta didn't care anything about avenging his father and his people.  He wanted to avenge himself.  He wanted to take Frieza's place.  He had taken the plan I had made at the beginning of our service to Frieza and corrupted it beyond recognition.  I then knew he was lost to me.  All those years I had spent teaching him had gone to waste.  Sure, he would destroy Frieza, but what then?  He would just become another Frieza.  If Raditz and I didn't die before Vegeta killed Frieza, we would most assuredly die after.  We, as Saiyans, meant nothing to Vegeta.  He would dispose of us as soon as we got in his way – as soon as it was in his best interests.

I've still been following Vegeta.  I'm still loyal to him.  I still care about him.  But I've always seen him as a son, and I can no longer do so.  I just stopped trying.  Our relationship became almost a business relationship.  We spent a month almost never talking after that day.  It was driving Raditz nuts.  He could tell that the countdown had begun.  Vegeta was getting stronger, and it was only a matter of time that all would break loose.  And there was something Raditz wanted to do before he died.  Find his brother.  He actually talked to me about it one night on a planet.  I was in a terrible mood, so I continued with my disparaging comments on the odds of Kakarrot's survival after all these years.  We began to argue, and it was about to come to blows, when who else but Vegeta broke it up.  Then he said something that floored us, but not in the way that he had a month before.  Kakarrot was alive.

Well, as soon as Raditz could pick his jaw off the floor, he asked Vegeta how he knew.  I, of course, had already figured it out.  How could I not have thought of this before?  Especially when I was hunting for Saiyans.  Vegeta would know.  Do you remember me telling about Vegeta's psychic connection with every single Saiyan?  Now, I didn't expect his telepathic capacity to be practiced enough to sense a Saiyan he had never met on a planet that he had never even heard of, but apparently Vegeta could do that.  Maybe it was the limited number of Saiyans that enabled him to pick up Kakarrot.  Either way, Raditz was ecstatic.  I allowed him his moment of "I told you so".  Truth was, I was glad that Kakarrot was alive.  It was a bit strange that Kakarrot had not left the planet he'd been sent to, but there were infinite possibilities for explanation.  I was certainly happy for Raditz.  He had a family.  That night he pored over star charts, just to see where this planet Earth was.  I thought it was a pretty harmless distraction.  The next morning when Vegeta and I woke up, Raditz was gone.

That night was the last time I ever saw Raditz.  I couldn't believe it.  He actually had the guts to escape.  I was certainly impressed.  I never thought that Raditz had it in him.  Vegeta was pissed, though.  I swear, I never used some of those words around him.  And some of them were Saiyan curses.  Could have been Raditz.  But I saw that air of panic about Vegeta – the same one he had when I almost attacked Frieza.  This time, I understood.  Vegeta had been biding his time, trying to train up to destroy Frieza.  He couldn't do that if Frieza found fault in his work and took away his command.  As a commander-in-training, he could get stronger without the constant surveillance.  He needed that.  But, as my experience goes to show, Frieza does not suffer mistakes in the people he puts in leadership positions.  Those people have to be perfect, and keep perfect control over their subordinates.  If I had not heeded Vegeta's orders that day in the throne room, Vegeta might be dead right now.  He's alive because he demonstrated that he had sufficient control over me.  This time, though, Raditz was gone.  Without orders.  Nowhere to be seen.  He'd gotten such a good head start that following after him would have been a delay that would be impossible to hide.  I could practically hear Vegeta's mind racing.  I offered no advice.  Vegeta wouldn't have taken it anyway.  Finally, he decided to just keep going as if Raditz was there.  Maybe he thought he'd get strong enough before we had to report to Frieza.  Or maybe he'd already decided to rebel then and there.  He was just buying a little time.  So we fudged every report to include Raditz, and kept an ear out for Raditz arriving on Earth.

It was a nerve-wracking time.  Thankfully we were in the frontier lands at the time.  We didn't have to report to Frieza in person all year.  We kept on with the purges, becoming stronger every time.  Again, we never really talked.  I think, though, that some of the hate melted between us, since we were working together again.  I mean, really working together.  Vegeta started to mention the idea of Super Saiyan every now and then.  I was certainly surprised.  I didn't even think he remembered that old legend, or if so, he couldn't possibly take it seriously.  But he did remember, and he did take it seriously.  Once, during his training, by accident, Vegeta told Frieza about the Super Saiyan transformation.  Vegeta said that Frieza laughed when he told him, but that Vegeta could tell that Frieza was a bit worried about the whole prospect.  I didn't care.  Whatever kept Vegeta going was all right with me.  I was just the sidekick.

One night we were monitoring the scouter frequencies when Raditz activated his scouter.  It was on the secret frequency we'd picked out for ourselves.  At first I was extremely hopeful, but everything went down from there.  Here Raditz was thinking that he could treat Kakarrot like any Saiyan child or a helpless civilian from a doomed planet.  I know I taught that boy better.  He tried to use the Saiyan instinct of child protection, but he didn't account for his own brother's recklessness.  That's what ended up killing him.  It was a rather stupid battle, from what I could hear.  And I knew that Raditz was going to lose.  I just knew it, deep down, right from the beginning of that stupid battle.  That battle that cut the surviving Saiyan population in half, all for nothing.  But maybe Raditz knew what he was getting in to.  You know, maybe he wrote a sarka on the way to Earth, just as I'm doing.  If I had time, I'd go look for it.

When Raditz died, Vegeta knew it was over.  No more fudging reports.  Raditz had forced his hand at rebellion, and Vegeta had to depart from his plan.  Thankfully, Earth has the very thing we need.  These things called dragon's balls or something like that.  Doesn't that sound pornographic?  Indecent or not, the balls would grant any wish.  I was hoping to wish back Raditz, and maybe even Kakarrot, so that I could handle the situation a little better than Raditz had, but Vegeta would have none of it.  He wanted the one thing he thought that would give him the edge over Frieza.  That's right.  Immortality.  This was a stupid idea, of course.  Just because you live forever doesn't ensure the quality of life.  I couldn't really think about it before we got on the space pods, but now I've had time.  What if you kept aging forever?  What if you were stranded in the depths of frontier space forever?  What if you received a fatal wound and could not be healed?  The possibilities for disasters are endless.  Death is the natural end to all things – a release from the pain and drudgery of life.  It's funny.  All this year of traveling to Earth, where Vegeta expects eternal life and I expect death.

This seems a fitting end to my account, unless you want to hear about me writing about my account.  That could turn into an endless cycle of infinity.  So I'll just end it, and maybe get some sleep before the fight tomorrow.  No sense in showing up in Hell tired.  That would be a tragedy.

I said at the beginning of this document that a sarka is a combination autobiography and last will.  I've certainly given an autobiography, but not really a will.  There's a reason for that.  I don't own anything.  I leave this dimension completely drained of everything.  But I will attempt to give what I have, even if I've already given it, and it's just words on a document that will most likely never be read.  As I've said, the sarka is mostly for me.  Not for anyone else.

To the memories of my fellow Saiyans who lost their lives about thirty years ago, I give my apologies.  I swore to avenge them, and I never have.  I can't even promise that Prince Vegeta will.  I may see them tomorrow, so I can convey my message in person.  But just in case I don't, and can't, I am profoundly sorry.

To the memory of Raditz and Kakarrot, who died a year ago, I also give my regrets.  I promised that I would care for the sons of Bardock, and I feel that I've failed to keep my pledge.  I'm sorry that their lives had to turn out that way.

To Xientlap I give my utter thanks.  He was, or is, the only one who ever truly knew who I was, the person I've conveyed through this sarka, the person I hid under a façade of violence and stupidity.  If he's not still alive, I hope to catch at least a glimpse of him in the afterlife, though I'm sure we're not going to the same place.  Xientlap doesn't deserve Hell, no matter what he did in Frieza's Army.

To Frieza I give all my hate and all the blame.  He is the reason behind all this madness.  He is the only one who truly deserves blame.  Some day Vegeta will beat him, and I hope to see the lizard in Hell.

And finally to Prince Vegeta.  I've given him everything I have over the years – teaching, guidance, hope, love.  The only thing left I can give him – the only thing I have left – is my hope.

And to you, unknown reader, I give the lessons I learned in life.  I'm not saying that my life is an example, but the next time you see a murderer, look a little closer at him.  There just might be a method to his madness.

And so I bid you farewell from the last remnant of the glorious Saiyan Empire.

Unless, of course, I don't die.  Then this whole thing will seem pretty silly.

Author's Notes: Well, we've almost reached the end of this. The next and last chapter will mostly be an epilogue, with maybe a few words added hastily to the sarka before Nappa hides the thing, and then the rest will be in real time. And a surprise, so I'm giving no hints.  
  
I guess I need to thank my reviewers: princess Frieza (It pained me to say goodbye to chibi Vegeta, but it had to be done. I hope I've characterized Vegeta well in this chapter. I had to make him mean, but I gave him a few moments of being vulnerable. I hate writing Saiyan Saga Vegeta, but I had to do it. Oh well.), aqua-illusion (I had a chance to reveal what happened to Vegeta in this chapter, and I avoided it again. I know that's driving you crazy. The problem is my thoughts on what happened to Vegeta are a bit violent and have been done over and over in many other fics dedicated solely to that purpose. Theories on Vegeta's early commander training I leave to the reader's imagination.), Lil Shady (Aw. And I like your reviews. I hope you make up for it this time. ^_^ Especially since this is about the end.), and Steven P. P (Thanks. Part of the usual Nappa characterization came through in this chapter - mostly because I wanted to be faithful to DBZ canon, but I gave reasons that seemed plausible to me.)  
  
Again, thank you all. I never would have gotten this far without your support and encouragement. I hope to see your reviews on some of my other stories. Until then, and until my last installment of this story, c'est tout.


	12. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.  
  
  


**Being of Sound Mind and Body**

**Chapter 12: Epilogue**

I thought I wouldn't be able to slip away from the battlefield.  Thankfully an opportunity came up.  We're waiting.  For Kakarrot.

Kakarrot is alive.  It's too good to be true.  Of course, it doesn't help.  Either Vegeta or Kakarrot will kill me—I doubt it'll be the Namek or the kid—and then Vegeta will kill Kakarrot.  I don't know.  Either way, the situation looks doomed.

Frieza's been monitoring our transmissions.

I haven't told this to Vegeta, but I heard his voice firefly on one of the channels.  We shouldn't have been using scouters in the first place.  We should have given them up, or at least remodeled them.  This whole rebellion has been handled badly from square one.

I don't care anymore.  I just can't care anymore.  I feel my death drawing near, and I fear it will be Vegeta who delivers the blow.  The humans haven't been a match for me.  I've fought sloppily and left them huge gaping opportunities to kill me, and they've given it all they've got, even to suicide, but they can't kill me.  I can't bring myself to lower my defenses.  The Namek is only slightly stronger than any of the humans.  The demi-Saiyan is just a child—he's too scared to fight.  Although, from Raditz's transmission, he's a bit more spirited when pushed.

Vegeta wouldn't hesitate to kill me.  Just like he killed that saibaman that lost to the big human.  The more I think about it, the more I'm sure it will be him.  I always said he'd be the death of me.  And really, I'm comforted by that thought.  I would be embarrassed to be killed by a human, or a half-breed.  Even a third-class warrior.  Humiliating way to die.  Better to be killed by my prince.

Oh, crap, I've got to go.  The three hours are getting close.  Well, I'm off to die.  I'm just glad I'll be able to see Bardock's youngest son before I die.  Wish me luck. 

                                                       *****

The book closed, and a frown played on the reader's lips.  He'd found the volume a long time ago, buried near the place where the battle of the Saiyans had taken place a little more than a decade before.  Even though he had an idea what it was, and an inkling that he didn't have the right to hide and ignore it, the reader had set it aside for years, not even reading it.  Just that day, he'd forced himself to read it.  He still felt like he was trespassing, but he realized that Nappa had wanted someone to read it.

He knew the real reason he had saved it all these years.  The one person who needed to read it hadn't been ready until recently.  Only now did the reader feel like he could pass it on to who he felt was the rightful owner of the document.  Nappa would have wanted it that way.

"Hey, are you coming?  The party's already started at Capsule Corp."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Piccolo responded.  He gathered up the book and followed the young god Dende off the Lookout.  He would give the book to Vegeta.  Vegeta needed to have it.  Besides, Piccolo had a long-ignored promise to keep.

                                     *****

He slowly opened his eyes.  The final words he'd heard in life echoed through his head.  He squinted from the headache and sudden brightness of the place.  He moved his hands over his eyes, only to be surprised that he could move his hands in the first place.  Last he remembered, he'd been paralyzed—his back broken.  As he got used to the light he dropped his arms, only to see the back of a green head.

"Hmph.  Figures."

Nappa watched bemusedly as the Namek slowly turned around.  The Namek looked at him and shook his head.  "Not you again."

Further ahead in line, three humans whirled around at the voice.  "Nappa!" one of them screamed, dropping into a fighting stance.  The other two followed suit.

Nappa just shook his head and crossed his arms.  "No need for all that.  We're dead.  The battle's over for us."  Then he stared off in realization.  "It's finally over," he whispered.

It took a moment to get used to the thought.  He really was dead.  And there was an afterlife.  Everything he'd thought—everything he'd written—had been true.  But the knot of worry in his stomach hadn't been killed.  Now all he had to do was to wait for more to join him in line—Vegeta or Kakarrot or the kid or the other human.  He kept turning over events and probabilities in his head, trying to predict the coming battle.  He hadn't had a scouter, so he didn't know exactly what Kakarrot's power level was, and he didn't know who would win when it came down to a fight between Vegeta and Kakarrot.

He rubbed his head in thought, only to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time.  Hair.  On his head.  His wild mane had completely regrown.  And he had on armor.  Not the hideous Kold Empire armor that had been destroyed in the battle on Earth.  No, this was the Saiyan armor of a general that he had worn all those years ago.  He even had the long-missed cape to go with it.  Nappa smiled.  Even though he was dead, he felt he had partially come back to life.

"Was it Goku?" came a growling voice.

Nappa looked up in confusion at the Namek—Piccolo, he believed the name was—for a moment.  Then he comprehended the question.  He smiled slightly.  "Who, Kakarrot?  Nah.  He let me go."

"He let you go?" the shortest of the humans said, in a childlike voice.

"But you killed us!" growled the human with all the hair.

Nappa laughed—a sharp bitter laugh.  "For the record, you were killed by a saibaman, shorty committed suicide—a lot of good that did—and three-eyes died of his own attack.  Oh, and you just got in the way, Namek.  I might've let you live if you'd have just stepped down."

"You were going to kill Gohan," the Namek said sharply.

Nappa rolled his eyes.  "Look, I was just trying to push him a little.  A strong boy like that oughta be fighting.  Who was his trainer, anyway?"

Piccolo's eyes narrowed.  "That blast would have killed him."

Nappa shrugged.  "Tough.  He wouldn't have been the first child to die."

Piccolo raised his hand, but then let it drop.  What was the use when you're both dead?  Besides, he saw a startling emotion in Nappa's eyes.  As a self-proclaimed arch-demon, Piccolo had picked up a talent for noticing pain in others, so he could relish in it.  And that's exactly what he saw in Nappa's eyes.  An overwhelming sense of pain as he stared off into space, lost in the past and his own regrets.  It made his own father's death and his loss to Goku, major tragedies in his life, seem like mere trifles.  Piccolo shook his head.  He didn't care.  He was still a demon, and this Saiyan was still a murderer.  "So, did Gohan kill you?"

Nappa crossed his arms and sighed.  The pain seemed to intensify in his eyes, mixed with a sense of betrayal.  But there would be no way to avoid the question.  "It was Prince Vegeta."

Nappa ignored the general snickering and turned inward to his own thoughts.  He didn't feel like any more conversation.  Seeming to take the hint, the Earthlings ignored him and began to talk amongst themselves.

The line up to the distant pagoda moved slowly.  Time itself moved slowly in the line – composed mostly of people he'd killed, Nappa realized with some discomfort.  In fact, he'd heard a few high-pitched laughs from bodiless spirits here and there.  Since there wasn't much to laugh about, the laughter was probably because of his own death.  Nappa didn't mind.  They were fully entitled to share in the irony.  For Nappa knew that he'd gotten what he deserved.  And there was more to come.  Nappa didn't fool himself for a minute that he was going to a good place.  Saiyans happened to have a concept of Heaven and Hell.  Nappa knew all kinds of religious systems, and he was doomed no matter which way he looked at it.  If he followed Xientlap's code of morals, he would be sent to Hell because of all the death he caused.  If he followed the Saiyan code, he would be sent to Hell because he'd completely failed in his last battle.  There was nothing redeeming about him.  There was no honor in his death.  And he'd failed to truly guide his charge—his prince.  It was in morose fatalism that Nappa continued in line, dimly aware of the constant glares turned toward him.  It didn't matter.

After what might have been hours, Nappa noticed that they were finally inside the pagoda.  Various-colored demons with business shirts and clipboards milled about, checking off names and keeping the spirits in line.  Nappa glared at the nearest demon, who was sneering at him and making notes on his clipboard.  'Rest in peace, my foot,' Nappa thought bitterly.

A booming voice caught Nappa's attention.  Nappa looked up… and up.  A huge demon in a pin-striped suit sat behind and massive desk.  "Ah, yes," he boomed.  "More from Earth.  This time with bodies."  

The human with the hair spoke up.  "Sir," he shouted because of the distance, "do you know what's going on in the battle against the Saiyans on Earth?  Has Goku, Gohan, or Krillen died?"

"Ah, Yamcha, I believe it is?  The battle is over by now.  None of those you have mentioned have died."

The humans started jumping up and down, celebrating the apparent victory.  Even Piccolo smiled at the news.  Nappa sighed resignedly.  He didn't know how the Earthlings pulled it off, but if they were alive and the battle was over, that meant they would have had to kill Vegeta.  But Nappa was sure he would have heard Vegeta by now.  "What of Prince Vegeta?" he broke in, feeling a wave of déjà vu as he asked the same question he'd asked Frieza so many years before.

The great demon frowned down at him, giving him the look he only gave damned souls.  "This Vegeta is still alive as well.  Last I checked, he was escaping in one of your space-ships."

Nappa let out a big sigh of relief, ignoring the glares that surrounded him.  He didn't care.  As long as Vegeta was still alive, there was still hope.  Nappa felt a great weight lift from him, and he could finally accept that he was dead.

The huge demon began reading over and shuffling papers.  "The humans Yamcha, Chaotzu, and Tien will be going to King Kai's across Snake Way to train.  It seems that King Kai was impressed with your performance.  And I overheard plans on Earth to revive the three of you with some other dragonballs, so you may not be staying all that long.  Good luck.  Snake Way is long."

The humans began grinning at each other.  They looked eager to be on their way, but they hung back to watch the rest of the judgment.  Nappa smirked and thought, 'Good guys nothing.  These are as vindictive as hell.'

"Piccolo," the great demon continued, "you have been called demon in the past, but for the past year you have changed.  King Kai seems to think that your last actions have vindicated you of past crimes.  You are also allowed to journey across Snake Way for training."

Piccolo started in surprise, but didn't argue.  He joined the humans, who looked a bit uncomfortable to have him in their company, and all four remained to watch the next judgment.

Nappa stepped forward, banishing any fear or apprehension from his visage.  He wouldn't give those watching the satisfaction.  Plus, he didn't even feel fear.  Hell couldn't be much worse than working for Frieza.  He felt the intense stare of the great demon, who seemed to be wanting to see the Saiyan sweat.  Nappa finally lost patience.  "All right, already!  Just point me toward Hell, and I'll be on my way."

The demon cleared his throat.  "General Nappa, you are correct.  You are sentenced to Hell.  I'm just waiting for your guides to get here.  They should be here any minute."

Nappa was about to make a snarky remark about the efficiency of the afterlife, when he was cut off by a shout.  "Nappa!"

Nappa had been halfway facing the Earthlings when he heard the familiar voice shout his name, so he could see the shocked reactions on each face.  Slowly turning around, Nappa grinned at what he saw in front of him.  "Bardock!"

The dead Saiyan scientist sauntered forward, grinning like Nappa had never seen him do before.  Nappa laughed as he realized the cause of the shocked expressions on the Earthlings' faces.  It was just as he'd remembered.  Kakarrot was the spitting image of Bardock, with only a scar and a tail to tell the two apart.

Another familiar voice came from somewhere behind Bardock.  "Hey, dad, look!  That's the guy who killed me."

Nappa's pulse quickened as he saw Raditz join his father, pointing at the Namek behind Nappa.  Bardock grinned at the astonished Piccolo, who seemed to be floored by the strange scene.  All the Earthlings seemed to be preparing for some sort of conflict, but none was forthcoming.

Nappa stared at his old friends.  "So, you're my guides to Hell that we were waiting for?"

Bardock looked behind him.  "We're not the only ones," he said as he stepped aside.

Immediately Nappa went to his knees to scoop up the child in front of him.  In a strangled whisper, he managed to get out, "Baen."

Realizing what he was doing, Nappa collected himself.  He straightened and stared down at his son, who was grinning madly.  Nappa could never remember seeing Baen so happy.  "Hey, Dad," Baen said quietly, both embarrassed and relieved by his father's initial reaction.

"Well," Bardock broke into the reunion, noting King Yemma clearing his throat deliberately, "we'd better get going to Hell.  Can't keep King Vegeta waiting."

"Wait a minute," Nappa said, turning back to the Earthlings.  The humans, disgusted at the cheerful greeting for their killer, were turning to leave.  Nappa approached the Namek Piccolo.  "Hey, Namek.  It sounded like they were going to try to revive you with the other dragonballs."

Piccolo crossed his arms.  "Wouldn't surprise me one bit."

"Well, if you see Vegeta in life, tell him that I forgive him.  And that I'm sorry I couldn't protect him better."  Piccolo's eyes widened as the same deep pain crept into Nappa's eyes.  The Saiyan started to turn around and walk off.  "Oh," Nappa turned around in an afterthought, "Sorry about the whole killing you and stuff."

Baen grabbed Nappa by the arm and started hauling him off, talking excitedly.  "Just wait, Dad.  Hell isn't all that bad.  The Saiyans have taken over a portion of Hell, and no one messes with us, not even the demons.  They weren't expecting ALL of the Saiyans to show up at the same time, so we showed 'em they couldn't mess with us.  It's just like Planet Vegeta, except no Frieza.  And, you know what…"

Baen's voice trailed off as he led an amused Nappa into the shadows, but Bardock and Raditz remained, staring at Piccolo.  Raditz's mouth quirked up.  He nodded his head to the Namek, and said, "Thanks for killing me.  I needed that."  Before Piccolo could respond, he sauntered off after Nappa and Baen.

Bardock remained, his arms crossed in consternation.  This time Piccolo found his voice.  "You're Son Goku's father, aren't you?"

Bardock smirked.  "I heard that's what people are calling Kakarrot now.  Yes, I am.  Is it true, what Nappa said?  Are you really going to be wished back to life?"

Piccolo nodded his head.  "Probably."

Bardock shifted in discomfort.  "If you see Kakarrot, tell him… tell him I'm sorry it couldn't have been better for him."  And with that, Goku's father turned and melted in the shadows, leaving a confused Piccolo.

"Hey, Piccolo!" yelled Yamcha.  "You coming?"

Piccolo shook himself out of the spell that the whole scene had cast him under and followed the humans down the winding road.  Piccolo gazed down the road, undaunted by the seemingly endless path.

Tien regarded the moody Namek, for once suspending the ever-present thought that he had been an enemy not too long ago.  "So, you gonna deliver all those messages?"

Piccolo snorted in disdain.  "I'm not a messenger boy.  Nappa can deliver his own message after I go back and kill Vegeta."

Yamcha laughed at the death threat.  "Sounded like that killer Nappa was going to a better place or something.  Meeting his family and friends… grinning like it was his birthday… didn't seem fair."

Piccolo was about to agree… until he remember the pain in Nappa's eyes.  And the bitter tone he used when he revealed the identity of his murderer.  And the outburst of joy when he saw his son.  And the strangely humble request he'd made to someone who didn't even like him.  If his years as a demon had taught him to recognize pain, his year with Gohan had taught him empathy for that pain.  "Might be fairer than you think," he whispered, too low for anyone to hear.

                                                            *****

Nappa noticed the change instantly.  The rest of Hell was all fire and lava lakes and deadly spikes.  This section of Hell began to look more and more like the Planet Vegeta that Nappa remembered from so many years ago.  He started seeing so many Saiyans, some he even vaguely recognized.  The Saiyans saluted him as he passed, occasionally shouting, "All hail General Nappa!"

Baen smiled at his father, who was looking around in wonder.  "We've been waiting for you for a long time."

Nappa looked down at his son.  The last memory he had of him was one of anger.  He didn't know if Baen had forgotten, or was just postponing.  Nappa just wanted to know where he stood.  "Baen," he began, "about what happened…"

Baen smiled up at him and gave him a knowing glance.  "Dad, I understand now.  I've been watching you from time to time, and I know how important what you were doing is now.  I was just young and stupid at the time."

Hearing wisdom pour from his young son, Nappa realized that, while the boy had not aged, he was actually somewhere in his thirties.  He had a life experience in Hell to teach him a few things.  Nappa smiled.  He was looking forward to getting to know his son all over again.

The concentration of Saiyans got thicker and thicker, and people began hailing him more and more.  Bardock, Raditz, and Baen escorted him up a wide stairway into a building, which Nappa slowly recognized as the royal palace on Planet Vegeta.  He looked at Bardock questioningly.

Bardock laughed a bit.  "It took me a few years, but I was finally able to get the Saiyan Quarter looking as much like home as possible.  As Baen said, Hell really isn't all that bad.  At least, it won't seem like it after all you've been through."

Before Nappa could utter a syllable in response, he realized he was in the throne room already.  At one look at King Vegeta, Nappa fell to his knees in a sudden surge of loyalty and happiness.  He looked up slightly, and there was Queen Okakra, looking as beautiful as ever.  Okakra smiled down at him and said, unabashedly, "Thank you for taking care of my son."

Nappa got to his feet, a wave of peace flowing through him.  What he had thought was a death had become a revival.  After years of Hell, Nappa had finally found what he was looking for. With all signs of mourning and slavery taken away, Nappa stood amidst his fellow Saiyan, his son at his side, his king and queen before him, and became complete.  

King Vegeta stood from his throne and nodded his head toward Nappa, the highest gesture of respect you could get from the king.  "Welcome home, General Nappa." 

Author's Notes: This is the end, I'm afraid. I just couldn't wait to get the last chapter out on this. It's been a learning experience for me. I may have started this as a way to work through writer's block, but I have been completely stunned at how well it's been received. I want to thank all my readers for encouraging me through my first long completed work. I couldn't have continued writing without knowing that you were all waiting for the next chapter. I hope that, with this story ending, you will all read some of my other stories, and the new ones I'll be working on this summer.  
  
Thanks to all my reviewers: aqua-illusion (I've been enjoying your steady reviews since Chapter 6. heh-heh. No one was able to guess the reader, because I gave no hints beforehand. Don't worry, Vegeta will read it. At least, that's the implication. And I was able to include the fact that Vegeta gets better.), Steven P.P (I may be forgetful for everything else, but I have a photographic memory for useless information. Most of this is centered around various forms of entertainment. It really works well when I'm trying to compile information for a story. I had to watch the episode for the exact words and just to refresh my memory, but I remembered which episode that scene was in. It's one of my more scary qualities.), princess Frieza (As I've said before, I hated to do that to Vegeta. Vegeta really is one of the more tragic characters in DBZ. Could be why he's so popular. Oh, well. We know he gets better.), Lil Shady (I'm kind of disappointed that the story is ending too. It was so much fun to write, and I had the pleasure of knowing that I was writing something completely original. Looks like you have a memory for pointless details as well, what with remembering the planet name. I DO give the implication that maybe Nappa can see how Vegeta turned out. Notice that Baen said he would watch Nappa from time to time. What to stop Nappa from doing the same thing. And who's to say that Frieza, Cell, and Co. were the only ones in Hell to watch the Buu fight. Nappa and the rest of the Saiyans probably watched along with everyone else. So he could see Vegeta turning into a hero. And, for the record, I finally got the episode of GT with THAT SCENE. I couldn't believe. Here I was, trying to change people's perspective on Nappa, and GT shows him to be a complete villain. I just have to remind myself that Toriyama did not write GT, and go with that. I have issues with GT, let's put it that way.), Nasiya (Welcome to my story . . . just as it's ending. Glad you enjoyed it. Hope to see your reviews on some of my other stuff.), and anonymous verdi_monster (I knew someone was watching me. I just had that feeling. I'm glad you left a review. And being compared to Sholio?! I've never read her Trigun fics, but I adore her DBZ fics. I feel honored for the comparison. I know that I could have elaborated more on Vegeta's training under Frieza, but that gets incredibly dark and violent in my mind. I may hint at such things, but I just don't feel like writing it. Glad you reviewed. I hope you leave a final review. Oh, and if you haven't read it, read my story "Meeting of Rivals". I detail another scene in Vegeta's early life.)  
  
Well, I believe that's all. I'm not planning a sequel to this, but you may see elements of this story in some of my other stories. Like, whenever I mention Nappa. I can't help it. This story has completely formed the way I think and write about Nappa, as well as chibi Vegeta. Again, my thanks go out to my many readers and reviewers. C'est tout.


End file.
